Past The Tyrant's Stroke
by seirios aster
Summary: Regulus Black is a mess. Having barely survived Voldemort's wrath, he is trying to make a new life for himself, but starting over is proving to be far more difficult than he imagined. When his roommate receives some bad news of her own, Regulus realizes he can't always run away from his problems. (AU, 1981).
1. Chapter 1

_**Summary (extended):** Regulus Black is a mess. Having barely survived Voldemort's wrath, he is trying to make a new life for himself, but starting over is proving to be far more difficult than he imagined. Hiding his identity from his new friends is bad enough, but once tragedy strikes back home, he finds it increasingly difficult to pretend everything is fine. When his roommate receives some bad news of her own, Regulus discovers that maybe being unable to tell his friends he's upset about his family issues is the least of his problems._

 _ **A couple notes:** While this entire story will be from Regulus Black's point of view in 3rd person limited narrator, the setting will not be in the UK but in the US for thematic and narrative reasons. I figured I'd be up front about that given how people tend to have visceral reactions to alterations in setting as well as non-canon characters, which in this instance are a necessity. As to the general canonicity of the story, I am only sticking to the events of the books with some alterations. One instance is the timeline and manner of Regulus's death, which I necessarily changed given that he clearly did not die when he was supposed to yet is definitely known to most people to be dead instead of disappeared. I am also keeping the time in mind when I write, but since I was not alive in 1981, I may be making some errors (for instance, I know this is the year that AIDS was discovered and can look up what was airing on television, but the slang is likely going to be wrong). If you haven't decided not to read yet, well, thanks for giving this story a chance. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Regulus smiled as his friend Kanan cracked a joke. More than half a year had passed since he had left Britain and the war behind him. Being able to do something as simple as go out with some friends to celebrate Halloween (albeit in the American tradition) would have been unthinkable at the start of the year. Then again, at the start of the year, Regulus had planned on dying before February. He did his best to not think about what had happened or what was still happening. That way laid madness. He had survived and for now could have some peace.

Sitting next to Regulus in the booth was Jack, who was nominally his roommate. They had been assigned to share a dorm room at the beginning of the year, but while Regulus would drop by between classes, he still lived with one of the few people he had known from before. For a number of reasons, the situation was best for all those involved. The dorm had not suddenly gained a reputation for being haunted, and Regulus could cast soundproofing spells to his heart's content. The trainee medwitch he actually lived with even benefited from the lack of rent; the compensation for Regulus's service had been very generous.

While his life was never going to be normal again, Regulus was content enough. He could be happy, laugh when someone told a joke, even if he still fell to pieces when left to long to think about what he had done. Still, this was a good day. He was glad his friends had convinced him to come out to dinner dressed up for the holiday. They had initially wanted to go to a fancy restaurant for the laughs, but Jack had insisted that the bar with St. Nixon was the one true option. That the pub was within walking distance of campus was simply a bonus.

Jack had gone with the rather general costume of Frankenstein's monster, and Kanan of course had dressed as a "sexy wizard" by wearing the cheapest, cheesiest costume he could buy and making it shirtless. It was a move Regulus would have expected from—Well, that did not much matter. Satine was dressed as an Egyptian queen, either Nefertiti or Nefertari. Regulus hadn't quite caught what she had said over the din. Regulus had even worn fancy dress despite how silly the he thought the tradition and how silly he felt drinking with his friends while wearing a facsimile of Roman armor.

"You know, Lee, it's good to see you relax once in a while," Kanan mentioned, slurring his words a bit. He was on his third pint. "Knew you had a personality under there."

Satine elbowed Kanan. "Dude! Mean!" she chastised. "Lee's just quiet. Jesus Christ."

" 'Snot what I meant!" Kanan objected, gesturing with his beer. "Lee's just usually all reserved and crap. Never really see him unwind."

"It's fine," Regulus said to Satine. "I knew what he meant." He had never been the most outgoing person, and even after adopting his new identity, that had not changed. Regulus Black had been studious, severe, and obedient, and Leander Grey was the same but even less talktative.

"Kanan's right, though," Jack agreed, directing the comment at Regulus. "You've been pretty down for the past week. Worried about the midterm?"

"A little," Regulus replied, although that was not the reason. "It'll probably be fine, though." In the grand scheme of things, a bad grade was nowhere near the worst that could happen. No, he had heard some rumors regarding—He admitted in a rush, "I'm concerned about everything going on back home. Nothing has happened for the past couple weeks, and it isn't like Voldemort to wait for so long. He has to be planning something." Sirius was going to do something stupid; Regulus could just feel it.

Satine swore at length in French, cursing Voldemort and calling into question the Dark Lord's ancestry. "He is a miserable bastard," she declared, having slipped back into English. "I am sure he will be brought down, even if your Old Families support him. Such foolishness should not be tolerated."

"I heard the government tried to assassinate him," Kanan added as the source of all paranoid conspiracy theories. He did not believe most of them but instead found it amusing to collect them for his own edification. "Like, a CIA black ops shindig and everything."

Jack rolled his eyes but said, "I wouldn't be surprised. I bet the justification was some insane screed about Communism." With a quick glance at Regulus, Jack continued a bit less bitingly, "That said, from what I've heard, axing the nutjob like that is what he deserves. Your brother was a cop, right, Leander?"

"Yeah," Regulus murmured. "He's an Auror. Bloody fucking idiot." The tense could be explained away as grief. Leander's brother was dead, hence why he never wrote or called or visited, even though Regulus's brother was alive and unaware Regulus was as well. Of course, Regulus had also managed to turn what had been a perfectly cheerful conversation into a depressing shitshow. After taking a long drink, he insisted, "It's fine. Reflex, you know?" Changing the subject, Regulus asked Kanan, "When did you say Anna was showing up? It's quarter past eleven."

"We have arrived!" suddenly declared a visibly drunk Anna, hanging off her long-suffering friend Ben. Regulus hid his flinch at the sudden sound and turned around to bear full witness to her flailing. They were dressed as science fiction characters, having appropriated parts of formal robes and martial arts gis to look the part. "And we come bearing excellent news!"

Exasperated, Ben explained, "It's why we're late. Padma grabbed Anna as we were leaving and insisted we have a drink with her to celebrate." He grinned at this point, however, and added, "Old What's-his-face kicked it! Even better, the psychopath was killed by a baby! Can you believe it?!"

Regulus was having trouble parsing what had just been said. "Voldemort's dead…?" he repeated to himself in disbelief. That wasn't possible. He was immortal. There were still multiple horcruxes left that needed to be destroyed. "How—" How was it possible? How was it possible he was dead or close enough to it that everyone believed it? How had a child…

"No one knows!" Anna whispered conspiratorially. Well, she clearly thought she was whispering, but drunken Anna's volume control was faulty and erred on the side of loud. "They're calling the Potter kid the 'Boy Who Lived'! Parents were killed: shame. But! Kid lived! Voldemort's dead!"

Regulus sat frozen in shock as they others cheered. Anna couldn't be talking about the Potters he was thinking of. There wasn't any way. If James and Lily had been threatened by Voldemort, Lily would have cast the Gringotts of all protective wards and the Fidelius to boot to keep them safe and hidden. James would have argued for Sirius to be the Secret Keeper, and—No. No, they wouldn't have done that. (They couldn't have done that. Sirius had to be okay. He just had to be.) No, Sirius wouldn't have let them. He wouldn't have. Then who? Lupin wasn't in any shape to be it, and his status as the resident ear to the ground for werewolf activity put him at risk. Regulus remembered Sirius worrying about that. Of course they couldn't use Pettigrew, since he was spying on the Death Eaters. So who? Potter would never have gone with Severus, and Lily would have been uneasy with Dumbledore. McKinnon was dead, and so was Dorcas Meadowes. Hestia Jones? No, that was a risk, too. Maybe they had gone with Sirius, then. (Sirius couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.)

Regulus must not have kept his features as schooled as he thought, because Jack asked, his voice full of concern, "Hey, Lee, you don't look so well. You all right? I thought you'd be glad to hear the nutjob kicked it."

"I'm fine," Regulus replied, not sounding fine in the slightest. Grimacing, he prevaricated in a mostly steady voice, "I knew them—knew of them. The couple who died. The husband is a friend of a friend of my brother's. I never thought this would happen to them." It was so goddamn wrong. How dare Regulus live when James and Lily had died? Why should he have been granted a second chance when they had been murdered in cold blood, probably dying to protect their son? The room started to spin. "I—I don't feel so well," Regulus said, standing. He needed some space or fresh air. Something. Hell, he just needed to get away for a moment.

Without waiting for a response, Regulus rushed to the bathroom. He was not going to have one of these breakdowns of his in full-view of his friends. Hopefully, Regulus just appeared drunk as he clung to the sink, feeling like he was going to pass out. Breathing heavily, he turned the cold tap and splashed the water on his face to try and stop his vision from fading in and out. Regulus felt like crying as it didn't work. He deserved to feel like this. He knew that. All this was his fault. He should have stayed and tried to kill Voldemort. Maybe then he wouldn't have survived and instead James and Lily would have.

Wait. Maybe—maybe this was just the booze talking, but what if they had used Pettigrew? What if they hadn't known he was a spy? What if—no, they had to know he was a spy. He couldn't have been spying on Sirius and the others. Why would Pettigrew have—Oh, God, their deaths really were Regulus's fault. He was responsible for everything Voldemort had done since he discovered the horcruxes. On the verge of hyperventilating, Regulus decided he was not going to break down in plain view in the men's bathroom. He was not above doing so in a stall.

None of this was right, Regulus thought. Why was he alive? What had been the reason for him to be spared? Others, so many others, had been far more worthy. By now, the Department of Mysteries would know of Voldemort's horcruxes. Regulus had served his purpose. Why now did Lily have to die? She was always so kind to him, even when Regulus had been in such a foul mood Sirius didn't even bother trying to talk to him. She was such a good person, and now she was dead, but Regulus was awful, and he was alive. None of this made any sense. Oh, God, Sirius was going to freak out so badly, and when he found out his younger brother was alive, Regulus knew Sirius was going to wish it had been James instead. Regulus wished it had been. Potter deserved to live.

"Lee?" Jack's voice rang out. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Regulus replied, voice hoarse and sounding the furthest thing from fine. He wiped the tears from his face, wondering when he had started crying. In the end, it didn't really matter. He probably looked a mess.

"You sound like shit," Jack commented, obviously concerned. He was standing outside the stall Regulus had commandeered for his crying jag. "…They were good friends of yours, weren't they?"

"Lily was one of the best people I knew," Regulus murmured. "She didn't deserve this."

Jack was silent for a long moment before he decided, "Lee, I'm taking you back to our dorm room, all right? There's no point to you staying out and getting blasted. I mean, if you want, we can drink the place dry, but somehow I have the feeling you'd rather just go home." _And mourn_ remained unspoken, but Regulus knew that was what his friend meant.

"I don't want to ruin your night," he protested, vertigo hitting him again as he made an attempt to stand. Leaning against the wall, he took a deep breath before unlatching the door. Jack was standing slightly off to the side and was visibly surprised Regulus had agreed so easily.

"Leander, are you okay to walk? We could apparate back…" Jack trailed off as Regulus stumbled. Jack helped steady his friend and continued, "And it's fine. The others are planning on hitting another bar, and I'm honestly starting to get a little tired. Besides, making sure you're all right is more important right now."

Regulus felt the tears come back and cursed himself for being so weak. "I don't deserve it, Jack," he denied, shaking his head vehemently. "I really don't."

Jack opened his mouth as if to argue with him but then appeared to think better of it. Instead, he just helped Regulus back to the table they had been sitting at. Regulus just tried to concentrate on making the world stop spinning as Jack explained they were leaving. Kanan and Satine sounded disappointed, but apparently Regulus looked about as bad as he felt, seeing as they both agreed he needed to be taken back to his dorm. Given the difficulty Jack faced in maneuvering Regulus outside, Jack apparated them back to their room. That, apparently, was the final straw, and Jack only barely was able to grab the wastebasket in time for Regulus to retch into it.

Collapsed onto the floor, Regulus keened, "I'm sorry," over and over in between losing what little remained in his stomach to the wastebasket. Jack sighed and gently squeezed his friend's shoulder in support. After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, Jack vanished the sick in the trash bin and told Regulus, "I'm going to get you a glass of water, all right? I'll be back in a second."

By the time Jack returned, Regulus was dry-heaving into the basket again. "I think you had a bit too much to drink," Jack commented, handing Regulus the glass. "I know you probably don't want to, but drinking the water'll make you feel better."

Regulus downed what he could before he had to vomit again. Everything hurt, but he fucking deserved it. Eventually, his stomach settled to the point that he didn't need to be folded over the wastebasket. Jack had given him another glass of water to drink, after which he was dragged to the communal bathroom and made to brush his teeth. "You'll be glad of it in the morning, Lee, trust me," Jack said as he imperiously enforced the cruel and unusual punishment.

Once back in the room, Regulus fumbled to take off his stupid costume. After managing to take off the armor, he decided to hell with the rest of it and just collapsed onto his bed. Jack took the intelligent course of action and pulled Regulus's boots off as well before throwing a blanket over him. "If you need to talk, just wake me up, okay?" Jack told his friend as he changed into his own pajamas.

" 'Kay," Regulus murmured, glad the room had finally stopped spinning. He could think about everything in the morning.

* * *

Regulus awoke to the sound of screaming. It only took a moment for him then to realize that he was the one doing the screaming. He was so cold. Why was he cold? Dammit, he hoped he hadn't woken up Jack. Oh, sitting up was a bad idea. "J—jack? You awake?" Regulus stammered, trying to get his breathing back under control. He curled up under the blanket, trying in vain to warm up.

"Yeah, Lee, kinda hard not to be," Jack replied, sounding about as tired as Regulus felt. "What the hell was that?" he asked, sounding far more curious than annoyed.

"Nightmare," Regulus replied automatically. That was the extent to which he was going to examine it. Thinking about what he had—No… Nononononono. "Oh, God, I'm going to be sick…" Regulus realized, making a mad grab for the trash bin again. Here he had hoped he wouldn't have to vomit again that night. After he finished retching, Regulus apologized, feeling he was every bit the burden he was, "I'm really sorry, Jack. I should have gone back to my apartment, not fucked up your sleep cycle."

Jack was silent for a moment before he admitted quietly, "It's okay. My cousin Sam gets nightmares like this, too. I mean, his are from Vietnam, but… I guess I'm just trying to say I get it. It's fine."

Regulus felt his face flush with embarrassment. "I still should have realized," he insisted, sitting up and looking for his boots. "I'll head back to the apartment. You've that paper due on Monday, remember?"

"Lee, we were going to get trashed tonight anyway," Jack pointed out reasonably. "I had already worked that into my calculations. Besides, it's just a short paper for Intro to Art History. I could write it in my sleep." Regulus was fairly certain he saw Jack grimace in the dark before continuing seriously, "The question is, will _you_ be all right? You were a mess earlier."

Regulus stared at the floor. He probably wasn't going to be all right, but that was a small difference from what was normal. Now he just had even more deaths of people he knew to weigh on him. As evenly as he could manage, Regulus reassured his roommate, "I'll be okay."

"Your girlfriend's around this weekend, then?" Jack teased.

"She's not my girlfriend!" Regulus insisted, glad Jack was going to drop it. When were Jack and the others going to accept that? She really wasn't his girlfriend. They were just friends and happened to live together. "Seriously!" Regulus winced even as he said it, knowing his brother would have cackled and then made snide comments about Regulus's preference for buxom redheads. Oh, Merlin, Sirius…

"Uh-huh," Jack replied, obviously not believing him. "Well, tell your not-a-girlfriend I said hi."

"Will do," Regulus said, distractedly as he pulled out some normal clothes to wear. "She's insisting on having you over for dinner at some point, by the way."

Jack sounded a little perplexed as he said, "Oh, really?"

"Yep," Regulus confirmed as he pulled on a pair of trousers. "She thinks you deserve some sort of reward for putting up with me." He was only half joking as he said it, especially given he was fairly certain that was the medical student's actual reasoning. After pulling on his boots, Regulus said, "In any case, I'll see you on Monday. Thanks again for making sure I didn't end up face-down in a gutter."

"No problem," Jack said, half-asleep. "Later."

* * *

The next morning saw Regulus sprawled on the couch in his apartment watching cartoons on the telly. Well, to be honest, "morning" was something of a subjective term, considering it was almost noon. He had cereal and tea, though, so doing the equivalent of lying in bed all day was something he considered acceptable. The bizarre American cartoons also distracted him from the real problem. Never had he been more thankful for his roommate's cable subscription.

Around half-past one, the medical student finally returned from brunch. She had left some time while Regulus was snoozing earlier in the morning. He had only awoken once more the night before, so all-in-all, that had been a good night's sleep. With a sigh, she inquired, "Are we watching soap operas today?"

"Maybe," he replied, wondering if he could convince her to turn the hot water kettle on. He really didn't feel like getting up. "But I'll probably just watch MTV."

She leaned over the couch to grab the remote away from him, and Regulus tried not to think about Lily. Vesta Dinoso only vaguely looked like Lily as she leaned against the couch, but for a moment, he thought he was seeing a ghost. They both had red hair, that was true, but the medical student's was darker and more auburn then red. She was older, too, but she had the same overprotective streak when it came to Regulus self-destructing. "I just wanted to check the news!" Vesta defended herself at whatever look Regulus had on his face. He must have seemed affronted. She changed the channel, and they watched the news in silence for a moment before she mentioned gently, "I heard about your friends. I'm really sorry."

Regulus looked away. "I should have expected it," he murmured. "They pissed off Voldemort one too many times, I guess."

"Still," she said. After a moment, she asked hesitantly, "You given more thought to the headshrink? I know you don't want to go, but… After this, you should probably talk to someone. Hell, even if you just go to a priest or something."

Regulus couldn't help himself: he laughed. "Me? Go talk to a priest? Christ, that would be a thing to see," he replied in disbelief. "I can see it now: 'Hi, I'm effectively a servant of Satan according to scripture and also a Nazi to people who know better, but I need to unburden myself because I'm depressed.' Yes, that will go over excellently."

"You don't need to be pissy about it," Vesta snapped. Her face softened almost immediately after and apologized, "I know you're just lashing out, but you know what I meant. There are churches that cater to witches and wizards, and there's a chaplain at the university. I only mentioned it because you don't want to see a psychiatrist."

"I know," Regulus murmured, feeling like a blithering idiot. He kept letting his temper get the better of him of late, and Vesta really didn't need him yelling at her over nothing. She had enough on her plate with medical school. "I'm sorry. I just—If James is dead, then what about Sirius? If he's dead, too, then I don't know what I'd…" Damn it, he was not going to think about this. His whole reason for watching the stupid cartoons was to ignore what was happening.

Vesta stayed silent. Regulus tried not to think about what that meant. She finally sighed and commanded, "Move your feet. I'm commandeering the end of the couch." He did as she asked, curling up under the blanket, and she flopped down onto the couch beside him, putting her feet up on the coffee table. "I haven't heard anything, but I don't think your brother's been hurt. We probably would have heard something by now, so there's no reason to worry for now, all right?" she said in an attempt to reassure him.

"I suppose," he said, his reply muffled by the blanket. "He'll do something stupid, you know. He's going to do something stupid and end up dead or in Azkaban."

"Well, he hasn't yet, has he?" Vesta pointed out, switching the channel back so some loud and obnoxiously upbeat music video was playing.

"Potter was always holding him back then," Regulus corrected morosely.

Vesta smacked him upside the head with the cereal box before resuming her pillaging of his food. "Stop it," she ordered. "Watch your MTV. Don't you have calculus to worry about as well?"

"Eugh. It's arithmancy all over again," Regulus complained, glad for the distraction. "Except it doesn't make any sense. How can something with infinite surface area have a finite volume? Magic can't answer that, but apparently maths can. No, I should be working on my lit class. My own damn fault for wanting to read Shakespeare for a grade. Have I mentioned that this system is such a pain? Why can't there just be a single bloody exam at the end of term?"

"Shh, my apprentice, you know nothing about the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune that is the American school system," Vesta said oh-so-solemnly before giggling. "You need to stop taking things so seriously, Regulus. You're young. Act like it, will you?"

Regulus furrowed his eyebrows. "I thought bitching about irrelevant school things counted towards that," he mentioned in mock confusion. He grinned, adding, "Oh, and gossiping. Before you ask, I think Anna and Padma have finally hooked up. I'm sure Ben'll be complaining about accidentally walking in on them soon enough."

Vesta shook her head ruefully. "How all your female friends turn out to be attached or lesbians is beyond me," she commented, throwing one of the cereal's marshmallows him. "It makes matchmaking that much harder, you know."

"I've other things to do," Regulus deflected, hoping to high heaven he wasn't blushing. He was so bloody obvious about it, especially now that he was so pale it looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years. Jack's comment the night before had hit a little too close to the mark, but Regulus knew his stupid, childish crush on Vesta was never going to lead to anything.

"So sure of this, are you?" Vesta replied, sounding like a two-foot tall Muppet that would remain nameless. She laughed and suggested in her normal voice, "Or should I just widen the playing field? You had a boyfriend at some point, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's not something that's ever going to happen again," Regulus stammered quickly, now definitely sure he was blushing like mad.

"Ugh, Regulus, do you know how difficult you are?" Vesta complained dramatically. "I try to set you up, and you just flop out on the couch and declare that your life is pain. I mean, that is a viable strategy for attracting women, but they have to be able to witness you being a Byronic stereotype." She smiled and said sincerely, "I just want you to be happy, is all. You're a good kid, you know?"

"I guess," he said, even though he knew he was the farthest thing from good. Yes, nothing would ever come of his idiot crush, but Regulus was okay with that. He'd rather have her as a friend than nothing.

They spent the rest of the afternoon watching the television, and Regulus barely thought about what had gone wrong. He knew he would have to face the truth at some point, but he figured he deserved at least a single happy afternoon. After all, the other shoe hadn't yet dropped. When Vesta ordered some delivery, Regulus finally started talking. He told her about Lily, who had always been willing to help him with his Charms homework and made sure to let him know Sirius missed him. Lily, who once Regulus had been Marked had convinced Sirius to talk to him again. She had known, somehow, he hadn't chosen to be a Death Eater. Lily had always been unfailingly kind to Regulus, and he had always counted her as his friend. Regulus might not have liked Potter so much, but he respected the older man, and he never would have wished something like this on him.

Vesta listened, occasionally asking a question, but she just let Regulus talk. He found himself telling her more than he had intended. He told her about Dorcas Meadowes and Marlene McKinnon, other victims of the war who had been only a couple years older than him. How Dorcas was completely mental on a good day, and Marlene had always looked to help others. Hell, he even started telling her about Barty, who wasn't dead, but—knowing his friend—was probably going to end up in Azkaban before things finished. In a way, all of them were casualties. Yes, Sirius and Lupin were alive, but most of their friends were dead. Regulus was alive too, but he wasn't about to leave himself off the list. Their whole generation had been broken, and only bits and pieces were left. Sirius would probably put cellotape over what was broken and call it a day, and Lupin would super-glue everything he could back into place, but none of them would ever be whole again. Well, Regulus would never be whole again.

"Don't say that," Vesta asked, her hand on his shoulder. "You'll get better. Really."

She seemed to be trying to convince herself rather than him. Regulus smiled sadly and lied, "I suppose. It'll heal up just like everything else, right?" More honestly, he continued, "But you know, the scars'll always be there. Can't get rid of them." He hadn't meant for his voice to break, but he was still a bit over-emotional. Why couldn't that have been the first thing to heal?

"Bellatrix didn't break you, Regulus," Vesta insisted, steel in her voice. "She hurt you terribly, but you survived. Yes, you'll have to carry the weight of what happened, but what she did to you doesn't make you less of a person, do you hear me?"

"I know," he said quietly and grimaced. Hating himself for admitting it, he added, "Knowing that doesn't stop me from feeling like it, though."

Vesta sighed, looking for all the world as if she wished she could help him stop hurting. After a moment, however, her expression twisted in anger, and she said darkly, "I hope that bitch rots in hell."

"Maybe she'll get caught," Regulus suggested, knowing it was unlikely. "Now that Voldemort's dead, she'll probably get sloppy. She always was quick to anger." He had some wicked-looking scars that could attest to that. He shook his head to clear away the accompanying memories before they completely resurfaced. A wave of fatigue hit him, and he said, "I'm going to go to bed. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"The nightmares?" Vesta asked despite already knowing the answer. "They keep you up more than usual?"

She looked so concerned that it made his heart hurt. "It was just a rough night," Regulus dodged. "Nothing really out of the ordinary. I have to apologize to Jack for waking him up, though. I was pretty out of it for a while."

"Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?" Vesta suggested as gently as she could. She turned pink after a moment, probably realizing her idea could have been taken the wrong way, and clarified, "So you're not alone, I mean?"

"I'll be fine," Regulus answered, possibly a little too quickly. Yes, some human contact would be nice, but he had enough trouble making eye contact when she wore a low-cut shirt. He had a fairly good idea of how else his body could betray him if they shared a bed, no matter how innocent either's intentions. "Thank you, though."

"Well, wake me up if you need anything, all right?" Vesta said, embarrassed for some reason beyond Regulus. Some of her behavior didn't make any sense to him at all.

With a brief smile, Regulus said good night and went into his room, shutting the door behind himself. Unlike the dorm-room, he had a set of silencing charms imbued into the walls so he didn't disturb anyone with his nightmares. Regulus decided to veto getting ready for bed and instead fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.

He awoke in the morning to Vesta cursing loudly, beating out his alarm to wake him up for classes. Throwing a shirt on, Regulus walked into the living room to find Vesta snatch up the newspaper and look to set it on fire. When she noticed Regulus, she did in fact set it on fire. "What the hell?" he said, more in confusion than anything else.

"Nothing," Vesta replied, still holding the burning newspaper as if nothing was wrong. "The news is shit, and sometimes fire is the answer."

Regulus raised an eyebrow. Usually when she was angry at the news, she would shove the paper in his face and demand he share her outrage. So what could—Regulus blanched. "What happened to Sirius?" he asked, trying to keep himself from sounding worried.

Vesta remained expressionless, obviously trying to figure out if she could get away with lying. Regulus made a lunge for the flaming newspaper, causing Vesta to put it out before they burned the building down on accident. She held it as far out of reach as she could from Regulus, and insisted, "He's fine. Stupid, but fine."

Regulus was practically climbing over her to grab the paper but spared a moment to demand, waiting for an opening, "How stupid? Critical condition stupid or Azkaban stupid?"

Vesta seemed to deflate a little, and Regulus took advantage of her lowering her guard to grab the newspaper. As he was about to read what was left of the headline, Vesta admitted gravely, "They think he killed thirteen people, including that friend of his, Pettigrew."

The world stopped. "No… No, Sirius would never—He'd never kill anyone," Regulus insisted, staring at the article stating just the opposite. He looked back up at Vesta. "He doesn't use the Unforgivables, even when the DMLE said it was okay. Sirius would never hurt innocent people if he could avoid it," Regulus continued, wondering in the back of his mind whom exactly he was trying to convince. "I—I should have realized Pettigrew was a traitor. I just thought he was a spy…" he said, mostly to himself.

Vesta set her jaw before carefully reasoning, "There was no way you could have known, Regulus, and there's nothing you could have done. You said Pettigrew was in your brother's close group of friends, right? Do you really think they would have taken your word over his?"

Regulus stared at her, unable to process what she wasn't saying. "He _didn't_ kill those people!" he shouted. "Someone has to be lying! Sirius _would never_!"

Vesta looked off to the side, clearly upset. "He'll be found innocent at trial, then, won't he?" she suggested in an attempt to placate him. She grimaced and continued vehemently, "Don't think I'm happy about this, Regulus. You remember how close your brother and my cousin are, and believe it or not, I'm really fucking worried about you. I know you don't want to think the worst of him, but everyone else _is_. Do you understand me?" She sighed, looking for words. "Look, I buy that he went after Pettigrew on a revenge mission, although there's no motive in the paper other than 'Death Eater', but I think it's a bit of a stretch that he wouldn't try to kill the bastard. Maybe something went wrong, or maybe it's a frame-up. The point is that in the end it doesn't matter what I think, or what you think, or maybe even the truth. It's awful, especially if it turns out you're right, because it's pretty damned obvious your brother's already been tried in the court of public opinion and found guilty. If the charges stick, you'll have to live with that."

"He didn't do it," Regulus repeated with a tremor in his voice. "He wouldn't."

Vesta looked down at the floor and sighed. "I know," she murmured. "I'm not—I don't—All of that just came out wrong. It's just… You _know_ that with this happening on the heels of Voldemort dying that it's going to be talked about. I'm not saying don't defend him, but…"

"This isn't happening," Regulus said, finally realizing that at some point he had fallen to his knees. He knew Vesta was trying to help, trying to tell him what he had already known. He couldn't say anything, because if it had been bizarre he had been upset by the news Voldemort had killed Potter and Lily, then his extended breakdown because of Sirius would be less strange and more suspicious. The ugly tattoo on his left arm didn't help that interpretation in the slightest. Regulus glanced at the clock. Class was in twenty minutes, which meant— "Vesta, you're going to be late for work," he reminded her as he managed to get back on his feet. He could let his own life be blown all to hell, but he didn't need to take any bystanders with him.

Vesta's look clearly communicated she thought he was a little more than slightly crazy. "It's fine. Leah can cover for me," she said, sounding a vaguely uneasy. "Look, if you need—"

"I'll be fine," Regulus insisted with a half-assed smile to try to convince her. "Really. I'm not half-bad at acting, remember?"

With a frown, Vesta allowed, "If you're sure. Still, if you need someone to talk to, you know how to reach me." She did not seem to believe he would do so, which caused her to continue sternly, "I mean it, Regulus. Give me a call if you need to talk. I don't want to hear from someone else you've done something stupid."

Regulus bristled and protested, "I'm not going to break Sirius out of Azkaban."

"That's not—I know. I just worry, all right?" she replied placatingly. Vesta put her hand on his shoulder and made to say something more, but she held her tongue. With a sigh, she let her hand drop and instead said, "I'll see you tonight."

Regulus flashed her a brief smile, feeling like an ass for even briefly losing his temper. "I'll be fine," he tried to reassure her.

Despite not entirely believing him, Vesta left for work. Once she had closed the door, Regulus robotically took a shower and dressed before collecting his things for class. Irony of ironies, he was actually on-time for the history survey, managing to run through the door a whole five minutes early. Professor Gray had not yet appeared, even more luckily, so Regulus would at least be spared the arch, unimpressed look that reminded him overmuch of his grandfather.

As Regulus took his usual seat at the back of the classroom next to his friend, Jack inquired genuinely, "You feeling any better?"

Regulus grimaced, running through a mental list of possible responses he would receive if he told the truth. Then again, Jack would probably notice he was lying if he said otherwise. "Not really," Regulus replied, trying to at least not let it be obvious the depths to which he felt the farthest from okay.

"I take it you saw the news this morning, then?" Jack guessed, sounding a fair bit more light-hearted than Regulus felt. "I could've sworn at least that guy wasn't as bonkers as the rest, being an Auror and all."

"He and James Potter were best friends," Regulus heard himself say.

Jack looked surprised at the comment, but instead of the condemnation expected, he replied, "I'd sorta heard that, too. I mean, yeah, the Black family's involved in all sorts of dark magic, but somehow I don't think they look too kindly on Voldemort after all the other shit that happened." Regulus was admittedly somewhat stunned at what Jack said, but he hadn't realized he hadn't schooled his features to remain more or less neutral until Jack backtracked, "I mean, I don't really know much, but if it were my brother who got killed and then my best friend, I'd be pretty pissed off, so it doesn't make sense to me that he'd be working for Voldemort, but—"

"He wasn't," Regulus interrupted, mentally slapping himself for saying even that. "Lily was good friends with him, too," he added to try and minimize how awkward the conversation could become. Lily and Sirius were friends, even if that just wasn't how Regulus knew his brother. "There's no one more loyal."

"Well, it does look a bit suspicious," Jack replied pensively. He shrugged and declared, "It's not like we can do about it, though. Que sera, sera, right?"

Regulus thankfully did not have to answer, because with that, Professor Gray finally arrived and apologized for the brief delay, looking even less put-together than usual. From the dejected sounds of the other students and mention of a fifteen-minute-rule, apparently everyone had been about to bail. Regulus was glad to have the lecture go forward; it was a fantastic way to keep his mind off everything else. Thankfully, he was going to be busy with academics for the next three hours and therefore had a convenient excuse not to think about his family.

Regulus was doing fairly well until it was time for lunch, at which point Anna found him and dragged him off to meet some of her new friends in the fencing club. He knew he was still acting fairly melancholic, but he tried not to be too much of an emotional drag if only to avoid the interrogation that would ensue. Regulus eventually admitted to himself during lunch that he was not feeling entirely too terrible. The realization made him feel ill. How could he feel anything close to happy while one of his friends had just _died_ and his brother was in _Azkaban_ for a crime he didn't commit? Better yet, both were true because he had not put two brain cells together and realized, no, Pettigrew was not so brave as to spy. The fucking yellow rat bastard was a coward, through and through. What's more, that meant the jackass was a traitor. And Regulus hadn't even said a word. He had never thought to ask Sirius about it, and now Sirius was looking at life in Azkaban.

Hoping no one had noticed his sudden shift in mood, Regulus took his leave. Back in London while he had actively been involved in the war, wandering around the city had helped clear his head, and he could only hope it would now. November had only begun, but the weather outside was already too cold for his liking. He felt slightly silly wearing a coat and a scarf when everyone else seemed to be making due with heavy jackets. The nearby area as a whole was full of college and graduate students with a smattering of faculty, so Regulus's desire for solitude led him to the bridge over the river near the home for idiosyncratic students known as the nearby science university. Usually the bizarre markings on the bridge could cheer Regulus up (Sirius would have thought the prank was hilarious and roped his friends into recreating it), but this time, they served the opposite purpose. Sirius would never be found innocent, and he was going to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. Regulus would never be able to see him again. It had not been likely he would before now, but that small hope had always been there. Now, he really was a good as dead.

Leaning against the cold railing, Regulus stared absently at the river. He chided himself mentally once he realized he had almost started using the weather as a metaphor for his mental state. Rivers were good symbols, though. They could be the relentless passing of time, the washing away of sins, and even progress. Bridges must also have some sort of symbolic value, but Regulus was more concerned with this one's height. Water could be harder than concrete. Regulus had heard that somewhere. Less mess, too. No one would miss him, really. Mum and Dad thought he was dead. Sirius thought he was dead. He was a burden to everyone else. Vesta might be sad for a while, but she would move on. They had only known each other for about a year, not much time in the grand scheme of things. Basically, everyone who did care about him thought he was dead. Now he wished he was, so why not fix it?

Why not?

Shaking, Regulus let go of the railing and backed up. He had to stop thinking like this. He wished he could stop thinking like this, but he couldn't control his thoughts. They kept circling back over and over. Yes, in spring, he had been particularly bad, but when summer came, he had been able to think straight again. He was supposed to be getting better, damn it! The French had a term for this: l'appel du vide, the call of the void. Sure, it was usually applied to high places, but death was a sort of void in and of itself, wasn't it?

Regulus stepped back over to the side of the bridge almost unconsciously, but someone dragged him away by the collar of his shirt.

"You, my stupid friend, are a moron," declared a voice out of the past.

* * *

 _ **Coming up: Things go farther south.**_

 _22 October 2015_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Notes:** Thanks everyone who followed, favorited, or reviewed based on the last chapter! You're the best! I hope everyone continues to enjoy! (Also, the Egyptian character introduced in this chapter is from an ancient magical family, hence why she references the ancient Egyptian gods despite that modern Egypt is composed mostly of Muslims and Coptic Christians.)_

* * *

"You, my stupid friend, are a moron," declared a voice out of the past.

Regulus could only turn and stare in shock at the woman who had spoken. "S-Sitamun, what are you doing here?" he managed to stammer.

The Egyptian woman currently appearing to be more clothing than person raised an eyebrow and demanded, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Last I checked, you were supposed to be either in the lands of the dead or eaten by Ammit. And yet, here you are, in this frozen hellscape, obviously about to throw yourself off a bridge. I do not know what I expected." She huffed before declaring with an angry look at the sky, "Because I like you, we are going to find a café and have a chat before the rain starts pissing down on us."

Regulus could only mutely follow her as she dragged him along, back towards the university. Sure enough, the weather did turn, and it began to rain in earnest shortly after Sitamun found a suitable coffeeshop. He was not even sure what he could say to the older woman to explain himself. Honestly, he was not quite sure why he had even gone along with her. No, he knew why he had followed her. Sitamun El-Amin was the heiress to an equally ancient family and had been a friend since they were children, and despite how she tended to profess that he was the king of fools, he knew she would not judge him for what had happened.

Sitamun made him sit at a table while she ordered drinks and food, and Regulus tried to figure out what he should say. An apology would be necessary, obviously. He would also need to thank her for—How stupid was that? He had to thank her for stopping him from jumping off a damned bridge. He probably would not have even hurt himself if he had jumped, but the fact of the matter was that he had been about to try. Sirius would be so fucking disappointed in him. Bad enough that Regulus was thinking of offing himself, but he just had to top that with doing so despite being given a second chance at life while—

Regulus cursed, trying not to make it obvious he was wiping tears out of his eyes. He was not going to have a cry in public. He had more self-control than that.

Sitamun chose that moment to practically slam the cups and plates down on the table, startling Regulus enough to break him out of his mental rut. "I swear we are being overcharged," she complained with a brief glare at the menu boards. She took off her almost comically oversized coat, earmuffs, and two scarves before seating herself. With her full attention now on Regulus, Sitamun tilted her head to the side and decided, "You look horrible. I thought it was just the accursed weather here, but you, my idiot friend, have seen better days." As an after-thought, she pushed one of the plates towards him and added, "The cinnamon bun is for you."

Regulus stared at the pastry for a moment. She had remembered he hated frosting. How many years had it been since they had seen each other? She had remembered something so irrelevant, but he hadn't even thought to—Goddamn it, he was not going to break down.

With a sigh, Sitamun offered him a package of tissues and gently said, "You should not feel ashamed that you're feeling this way, but please tell me what's wrong. I don't want to have to explain to your parents and more importantly your fool brother that you broke your arm jumping off a bridge barely taller than an Olympic diving board. That's for my sake and yours, I'll have you know. Mine because I do not want to be interrogated, and yours because your brother will hide you away in a room with no glass or sharp edges for the rest of your life."

He knew she was trying to lighten the mood by mentioning his family, but Regulus could only think of how angry his mum and dad would be if they knew he had lied to them. His breath hitched against his will, but Regulus calmed himself down enough to manage, "S-Sirius is—he—he got sent to Azkaban. They—they think he k-killed thirteen people."

Sitamun watched him with concern. With a sad expression, she admitted, "I had heard as much. I would tell you the Ministry of Magic would change its mind, but I have heard of the draconian measures recently enacted." Sincerely, she continued, "I cannot imagine how you feel, but I do not think this news alone would have you so hopeless. I am actually amazed you have not jumped on an aeroplane to protest your brother's obvious innocence. I want to help, Regulus. Please, tell me what's really wrong."

Regulus took a shaky breath. He was going to be in trouble if anyone discovered they had talked and she had recognized him. In for a penny, in for a pound. Hesitantly, he explained, "I-I think Pettigrew framed Sirius. They're animagi. Pettigrew's a rat. F-fucking obvious now why." Regulus grimaced and tried to keep his voice steadier. "He was a y-you-know-what. I t-thought he was a spy, you know? 'Gainst the fuckhead."

"You never said anything," Sitamun stated, putting the situation together in her head.

Regulus nodded. "So's my fault," he said, finishing the line of reasoning. "My fault my big brother's gonna die in prison while I'm out f-free." The stupid tears were gathering in his eyes again, but he was not going to acknowledge that until he had to.

"Isis love you," Sitamun said with a note of exasperation, but her expression was fond. She took his hand and said earnestly, "There is nothing you could have done. Yes, you might have said something to your brother, but do you really think that would have changed a thing? You know your brother. He doesn't always think before he acts."

Regulus took his hand from hers and looked down. He didn't deserve any absolution. "Lily and Potter might still be alive if I had," he tried to explain. "Their deaths are my fault! I-I could have said something to Lily. They were planning on going into hiding. It's obvious they'd use the Fidelius Charm. Sirius of course would be first choice, but they must have gone with Pettigrew. If I'd said something…" He let himself trail off and hugged his arms to his chest. Why was he telling Sitamun all this? She didn't need to hear any of this; it was his cross to bear.

"If you had, then what?" she inquired sharply. In a more patient tone, she argued, "Regulus, you are not thinking. If Voldemort had been after your brother's friends, then I doubt they would have been able to hide forever. What's more, I'd say your brother would likely be dead instead of in Azkaban if they had used him for that spell. In a way, you saved his life. It may not seem like much difference, but Azkaban isn't death. Imprisonment can be reversed. After all, you're alive. Miracles do happen."

"I'm alive because of a fluke," Regulus corrected darkly. "A medwizard needed a smoke, so my throat was healed just barely before I bled out from arterial flow."

"That doesn't make it any less of a miracle," Sitamun pointed out lightly. "And eat your overpriced cinnamon bun. You're a stick. I don't want to have to explain how you starved to death to your parents, either."

Regulus cracked a smile at that despite himself. "I'm doing a lot better," he mentioned in an effort to reassure her. He wasn't even lying. "I wasn't doing too well for a while there, but I can walk again without needing to favor my ankle, and my left arm isn't that stiff anymore."

"You haven't been ill then?" she inquired as she took a sip of her espresso. "No lasting sicknesses outside of whatever Lord Fuckwad did? I won't ask for details; I assume you have enough to bear without my prying. You have been well outside of that, though?"

Regulus hesitated. He had caught the flu over the summer, and Vesta had been horribly worried about him. She had tried to hide it, but once the illness refused to go away within an acceptable time frame, Regulus had realized she had been afraid he would contract pneumonia. He knew it was not terribly out of the realm of possibility that his immune system would still be somewhat suppressed, but he hadn't thought that Vesta had considered it more likely than not. "I had a small case of pneumonia in August," Regulus decided to admit. "Antibiotics cleared it right up, but I've been okay otherwise."

Sitamun appeared to be gauging the answer against Sirius's never-ending complaints about Regulus minimizing his problems. Given why they were having this conversation, Regulus couldn't bring himself to blame her. "I see," she finally said. "Is there anything I could do to help? I could try to reduce any scar tissue. It's been a while since you were injured, yes, but we both know conventional healing spells can only go so far."

Regulus grimaced, feeling vaguely anxious. He appreciated the offer; he really did. Her family was known for its preternatural skill at healing, so if Sitamun were here in the United States, she clearly was here for work. "I can't ask that of you," he murmured. "It's not worth expending any energy on. As I said, I've got the full range of motion back in my wrist, and my ankle's not giving out on me anymore."

Sitamun glanced at his hands. "Your right wrist? Broken in, oh, at least two places? Sheared connective tissue, obviously," she guessed. She narrowed her eyes and realized, "Your cousin did it. The violent one, Bellatrix. She always was cruel."

Regulus tensed. He really did not want to talk about that. Trying not to let on how little he wanted to speak about that subject, he quickly replied, "It doesn't matter. I'm fine."

"It still hurts, doesn't it?" Sitamun observed, not brooking his rather poor attempt at misdirection. "If you've been writing or when the weather changes?"

He looked down but admitted, "Yes."

Sitamun sighed. "Regulus, you know the normal limits of healing. Yes, we're leagues and bounds beyond non-magical medicine, but scar tissue still forms with tendons and ligaments," she reminded him. "I won't do anything if you don't want me to, but you shouldn't let yourself be in pain just because you think you deserve it."

"It's not that bad," he insisted. He was telling the truth there. His wrist rarely acted up to the point he needed to take painkillers. Usually, he could just ignore it and did. "I'm as well as I'm going to get, Sitamun. My physical problems aren't going to go away anytime soon, magic or no magic. Hell, a fair amount of this bullshit is just psychosomatic, all the stupid aches and pains. I'm a mess, but I'm trying to get better, you know?" Regulus really hoped he did not sound too desperate. Besides, he was getting better. He was.

Something changed in her expression, and Sitamun agreed, "I won't bring it up again, but let me know if you change your mind." With a rueful smile, she apologized, "I'm sorry for making you feel uncomfortable."

Regulus shook his head and replied with more self-deprecation than he intended, "No. You're only trying to help, and I'm following form and being a selfish ass. I haven't even asked you how you're doing." Feeling a twinge of pain, Regulus unconsciously massaged his right wrist. He should have known that speaking about it would cause it to start acting up.

"I am fine. Mother wanted me to learn how those outside the family heal, so I have been working at a hospital near by," Sitamun said airily, blessedly ignoring most of what he had said. If Narcissa or Sirius had been the one he had said that to, Regulus would have been read the riot act. Sitamun had continued, "The family spells are less exhausting to use, but I suppose they're a bit too complicated for some people."

"Family magic is always that way, though," Regulus commented absently, finally deciding he would likely be able to keep the pastry down. He really did love cinnamon rolls. "Sirius never stops bitching about—" Regulus broke off abruptly, remembering again why he was here talking to Sitamun, but he managed to continue without stammering, "He never stops bitching about how arcane everyone seems to think our family magic is. Granted, as you know, most sane people are leery of even learning it, but it's the principle of the thing."

"True," Sitamun admitted. With a shrug, she added, "But I am supposed to learn how to teach these things as well. You always had something of a gift for healing, yes?"

"I did," Regulus replied. "I've been having problems, though, ever since—That's been true for most magic, though. It's why I'm taking mostly non-magic classes at university."

Sitamun gave him a wide smile. "I am glad to hear you have found something to occupy yourself with," she said. "As to your magic, I know for a fact the problems are due to your continued convalescence. Magic has been known to shunt itself towards internal healing in cases of severe trauma."

"That's what Vesta said," Regulus mentioned. He had asked her while he had still been bedridden why he could barely cast a spell for refilling a glass of water. Even after he had been able to move about a little more, he had still had serious trouble with charms he had learned when he was eleven. After one too many sincerely pathetic attempts at simple spells, Regulus had broken down embarrassingly, but Vesta had been more patient with him than he deserved.

"Vesta?" Sitamun repeated with a Cheshire cat smile.

Regulus flushed, instantly remembering why he should not have mentioned Vesta to Sitamun of all people. There was a reason that Narcissa got on with Sitamun like a house on fire. "She's just my roommate," he insisted, trying not to sound he like was trying to hide anything.

"I see," Sitamun replied, looking remarkably like Narcissa had when Regulus had mentioned Vesta to her in passing. Narcissa had thankfully only mentioned her to Sirius, who had proceeded to make Regulus infinitely embarrassed just for the hell of it. "No other women in your life, then?" she inquired, pretending to be only vaguely interested.

"I'm having a hard enough time as it is," Regulus protested, glad she had at least moved away from grilling him about Vesta. On more famililar grounds, Regulus explained his supposed disinterest in romance, "Besides, I'm not exactly a catch. It's not like I have anything to offer aside from an endless supply of whinging, dark secrets, and fucked-up family dramatics."

Sitamun looked him over and replied completely insincerely, "Uh-huh. Nothing to offer."

Regulus sent her an unamused look. "My personality isn't exactly sterling, Sitamun, and I'm effectively penniless," he defended, well aware he sounded fairly pathetic. Her expression did not change from the look of absolute incredulity, so he continued in appeasement, "Fine, say I'm smart enough or have enough of a sense of humor to balance the other shit out. I am still a pain in the ass to be around."

With a sigh, Sitamun pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "I do not know why I put up with you sometimes, lion-fool," she complained, using one of her nicknames for Regulus he was less than fond of to underscore her opinion. She waited for a moment before inquiring innocently, "This 'roommate' of yours, would she be good to procreate with?"

Regulus almost choked on his tea and spent a good half a minute coughing while Sitamun appeared completely unrepentant. In the meanwhile, she continued, "I am just saying if she is amenable, I would think that would not be the end of the world. You really do need to get on this, what with the rate at which your family is managing to fall out of the gene pool. I do not want to have to deal with—Ra forbid—the spawn of your nutjob cousin in the future."

"Narcissa and Andromeda have kids!" Regulus protested, now regretting not letting Sitamun delve into his personal issues previously.

"But they do not have aptitude in your family's magic," Sitamun pointed out, thankfully at least remembering to keep using that phrase instead of the blunt and far more recognizable term. "You, your brother, and the psychopath are the only three in our generation with any strong abilities, and I have no real hopes that either of them are going to reproduce—" A truly unpleasant thought occurred to her, and she added quickly, "Not that I'm suggesting mixing the bloodlines. Ew. No. Plus, I doubt even Hathor would see it in her to let that union be fruitful. Too much power. The other old families would not stand for it, either."

"I am not going to just go knock up some random woman for your edification!" Regulus hissed, trying to keep this a bit quieter than how the conversation had been going, because if crying in public was making a scene, God only knew what _this_ was. "I told you, I'm fucked up, physically and mentally, and it's ethically wrong for me to even consider—"

Sternly, Sitamun reminded him, "You have a duty to pass on your family magic, even though you find it distasteful. Magic is a tool, and tools have no morality. Only their wielders do. Your cousin has been corrupted, so you do have a duty unless your brother manages to pull a pardon out of his ass. It's not fair, but life isn't fair, Regulus Black."

He stared at the table for a long moment. None of this was anything he wanted to think about. That he would not have to worry about the weight of three hundred generations or all the stupid traditions and niceties of pureblood high society had been honestly the one bright spot of this whole endeavor. Yes, he was cut off from everyone he had ever cared about, but at least he no longer had to live up to some bullshit ideal. He no longer had to be the second son unfortunately cast into the spotlight. Now, he could be anonymous, and all the issues that came with that had been welcome. Regulus almost said as much, but when he made to speak, he realized Sitamun was not angry. No, she looked almost—Regulus cursed silently in realization before reassuring her, "I won't try to kill myself again. I promise."

"Make sure you do not," she replied, watching him with a startling amount of concern. Backtracking slightly, she amended some of her earlier words, "I mean this as a friend, Regulus. If you had something else to think about—I—Just, please do not do anything stupid. Yes, we do have a duty, but you can't just throw your life away. If your brother ever found out you had been alive and then killed yourself over his mistakes, I do not even know what he would do. If you need something to live for, live for that. Life can be cruel, and death may be the great equalizer, but for the love of Ra, do not give up. You would be missed. Please never doubt that."

"Do I really look that pathetic?" he asked in a small voice, clutching his hands together to the point that his fingernails were digging painfully into the palm of his hand. God, he was such a bloody burden. He couldn't even put on a halfway decent front to let his friends think he was fine. Sitamun had been trying to cheer him up, but he wouldn't even let her do that. Of course she had to try to guilt him into not offing himself, because he wasn't going to be receptive to any other line of attack.

"No," Sitamun reassured him, looking guilty for some reason. "You look tired, and you look like you're hurting," she clarified. With a defeated sigh, she continued, "I'm just worse at cheering people up than your brother."

Regulus let out a curt laugh. "You haven't yet told me to 'get over it', so you're still one step above Siri," he corrected, not caring this time that the mention of his brother was making him weepy yet again. He was allowed to be upset, wasn't he? Normal people were allowed to be upset about these things, right?

Sitamun smiled ruefully before she looked startled. Annoyed, she pulled a pager out of her pants pocket and glared at it. Cursing, she glanced at her watch and frowned. Hesitantly, she asked, "Your roommate—Vesta? Are you two close? I mean, if I hadn't been here to talk to you, would she have listened instead?"

A little surprised at the change in topics, Regulus replied, "Yes. I mean, she told me to talk to her this morning if I needed to, but I didn't want to bother her."

"Oh, thank Ra," Sitamun breathed. In a very serious tone, she told him, "Regulus, you need to go find her and talk to her, okay? I have to go." She started putting all her winter clothes back on, and she added, "Oh, and by the way, I'm fixing your leg at some point." As she wound her scarfs around her neck, she cut off Regulus's beginning of a protest, "It's non-negotiable, lion-fool. You neglected to mention whatever happened to your knee, so be glad I'm not trusting you only on this." She dragged him to his feet for a hug and stood on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, dumbass," she said in farewell.

"See you later, Sita," Regulus replied, figuring he could argue with her about the rest later. After sitting back down, he waited until he had finished his tea and it had stopped raining to leave. Instead of doing as Sitamun had asked and finding Vesta, Regulus went off to find Jack and apologize properly for acting like a complete ass. His last class was probably finished at this point, so Jack and the others were probably at the bar. Making the intelligent decision and taking the subway back to campus, Regulus ducked into the bookstore and bought an umbrella given that it had begun to rain again. He made it to the bar around sunset, which was less depressingly early than back home, and found Jack talking to Ben with ease.

"Hey, Jack, Ben," Regulus said, thankfully sounding more or less okay. Apparently talking to Sitamun had been cathartic enough to allow him to pretend to be normal again. He sat at the table with the other two and ordered a pint from the passing waitress.

Ben groaned dramatically and mentioned with fake annoyance, "I have no idea how you manage to do that, Leander. Every time I come here, I have to show my ID, but you just flash the waitress a smile and are given booze."

"To be fair, you look fifteen, Ben," Jack mentioned, gesturing with his sadly virgin frozen margarita. "And be glad neither of your parents are in politics. If I got caught trying to any alcohol and got carded, my mom would rip me a new one. That reminds me, my jackass cousin's apparently getting engaged for 'the good of the family'. I pity whoever gets roped into marrying the fucker."

"I take it he isn't all that pleasant?" Regulus asked, taking a moment to remember the tantrum Andromeda had thrown when she had found out her parents had arranged a marriage for her to one of the Carrows. Even Bellatrix had thought that was a bad idea. _Bellatrix_.

"No. I avoid his ass whenever possible," Jack replied, pissed off at even the mention of the man. "When I see him at holidays is almost beyond the limits of my tolerance for him."

"We are here to bitch about school, not unfortunate family members," Ben complained in an exaggerated manner, causing Regulus to realize that Ben was well on his way to being drunk. "Well, and whatever's up with Leander, 'cause you look effing awful."

"I'm fine," Regulus insisted, managing not to sound desperate for the others to believe him. "I've been upset because of the shit that happened to my friends, but that's not really an excuse for me to be a self-centered asshole."

"You haven't been a self-centered asshole," Jack said, contradicting him entirely. "You got shitfaced on Saturday night, heard a close friend of yours was killed, and have been acting like a zombie ever since, which is perfectly understandable."

"Yeah, Jack mentioned you got super-barfy after you left the bar," Ben added sagely.

"Yes, that did happen," Regulus admitted with a wince.

"It wasn't a problem. You looked pretty rough," Jack mentioned, taking another sip of his drink. The waitress returned with the beer Regulus had ordered, and after she left, Jack continued, "You still honestly look pretty rough. Lee, you sure you don't want to take a couple days to yourself? Have you heard when the funeral is? I'm sure your profs wouldn't mind if you took some time off."

Regulus blanched as he realized he had not considered how to explain he could not go to Lily's funeral, although honestly he should have remembered. Granted, he probably would not have been welcome there, even if everyone knew he was still alive. He _was_ a Death Eater. Well, he had been a Death Eater and a shitty one, at that. Resolving not to continue the line of thought, he instead concentrated on his beer before the obvious solution finally came to him. "I don't have the money," he replied. "Aside from the flight being too expensive, I've no one to stay with."

"You don't have any aunts or uncles that would put you up?" Ben asked, showing his colors as someone who had a fairly non-combative extended family.

"I'm not exactly on good terms with them," Regulus explained, thinking of how little Aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus would think of his feelings regarding Bellatrix. "Well, Uncle Al would've put me up, but he died a couple years back," he amended, just to make sure he wasn't laying it on too think. Of course, God only knew where Grandmother was, but her globetrotting wasn't exactly the best to mention given he had just used lack of money as his reasoning for skipping Lily and Potter's funeral, which would undoubtedly turn into a media circus.

"Your opinion of Sirius Black probably wouldn't fly too well with your other friends, either," Jack commented. Regulus flinched, but his friend continued on unaware, "I read some of the other newspaper reports. It sounds like there's a pretty airtight case. Dunno when the trial is, but you might have had a pretty rough time if anyone else brought that up."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "You think he's innocent?" he asked Regulus in drunkenly exaggerated shock. "He's part of, like, all those dark magic nutjobs."

"The Death Eaters?" Regulus supplied, not really even bothered that Ben held the opinion Sirius had killed all those people. Regulus knew it wasn't true, so that was enough. Besides, given Bellatrix, it was inevitable that everyone started looking at Sirius askance.

"No. The—whatsit—family! That's it!" Ben attempted to explain. "Like, isn't the chief crazy lady his relative or whatever? And his brother was one of Voldemort's people, too. Plus, you know, dark magic and stuff."

"Mom knew one of them back in World War II. She served in the WAC over in Britain," Jack mentioned out of the blue. "Apparently there weren't a lot of witches and wizards fighting in the war over there, so it was a fairly small social scene. She said a lot of them were at least a little crazy, but that some were good people."

Eh, that was a fair assessment. Uncle Al was probably the one who Jack's mum had encountered. Regulus was about to comment as much when the fact that Ben had mentioned Regulus-As-Sirius's-Brother finally caught up to him. Instead of even vaguely defending himself, he said vehemently, "Bellatrix Lestrange may be an evil fucking bitch, but Sirius is absolutely nothing like her." That was not exactly true, but Sirius's fairly explosive temper was not on trial. However, even Satan would think Bellatrix's methods were a bit much.

Ben glanced down at Regulus's mostly full beer before narrowing his eyes in confusion. "You aren't drunk, Lee, so why…?" he asked, making little to no sense.

Jack headed off the first reply that came into Regulus's head, which had been less than polite, and patiently told Ben, "I don't think it's important why Lee hates Lestrange. That's his business, Ben, not ours." With a drunken sound of understanding from Ben, Jack apologized to Regulus, "I'm sorry Ben's all—" He gestured vaguely at their friend. "—He's on the rocks with Satine again, and then he might have seriously fucked up a paper he turned in today. Thus, he's shitfaced before seven on a Monday night and making inappropriate comments."

Regulus's anger melted away, and he felt a little frustrated with himself for even being a little miffed at Ben. Not because of the reasons, really, but because Regulus knew Ben wouldn't have said any of that sober. Hell, normally Ben, who was almost always the most articulate of them, would have been the voice of reason. Annie might have said all that sober, but that was Annie. "It's fine," Regulus murmured. "Neither of us are making much sense, anyway."

"Sorry, Lee," Ben managed to slur. "Didn' know." With a measuring look, he further decided, "You're too sober. Buy a drink or three on me."

Regulus managed to catch the credit card flung in his general direction as Ben started in on a paean to either Satine's commitment to her political ideals or her prowess in bed. Jack seemed to be able to tell, but the look on his face didn't help any further in figuring out which it was. Regulus was sure as hell not going to ask. That said, egging Ben on to further ridiculous statements _was_ guaranteed to provide hours of entertainment…

"It's not worth it, Lee," Jack said, apparently now able to read minds. "If he started in on talking about her opinions on Hobbes, you'd understand."

As Ben then began a separate yet equally incoherent rant about Calvinism, Regulus agreed partially out of a sense of the sublime, "You may have the right idea."

"Of course I do," Jack replied in faux arrogance. He cracked a grin and then added, "You look a hell of a lot better than you did this morning, by the way. Did you go find your girlfriend and talk it out?"

"She's not my girlfriend. Seriously—" Regulus winced internally at the word. "—I've already had to go through this once today, and Sita's a million times less willing to take me at my word on it." Not to mention she more likely to act like it was his moral imperative to fuck someone, but Jack did not need to know that part.

"Wow, you mean you have other friends?" Ben interjected, apparently not finished with inserting his foot in his mouth for the night.

"She's a family friend," Regulus explained in a bored manner. "A highly embarrassing family friend." Hopefully neither of them would pry. He wasn't sure how well connected either of his friends' families were, but the El-Amin were not exactly obscure. Even if Ben was a Muggleborn, he could have read about them in a book and been made to understand who they were with fairly little context. Hell, they had unleashed some plague back in the Crusades because they had found the incessant European interference in the Levant annoying.

"He didn't deny that his roommate wasn't his girlfriend," Ben commented idly to Jack with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Vesta's not my girlfriend!" Regulus exclaimed, almost knocking his beer over with the accompanying gesture.

"He did deny it," Jack mentioned, amused by the fact that Regulus clearly had forgotten what he had said not even a minute prior. Given the dark look Regulus sent him, Jack added, "And we'll stop bothering you about it for a while. I can't promise forever, because, well, Ann."

"If she decides it's her next conspiracy theory, she will never let it go," Ben commented in support. "Ask her about her theory on Jack's mom's cousin the next time you see her."

Jack turned to look at Ben in horror before begging Regulus, "Never ask her that. _Ever_. For the love of God, please don't get her started. And don't mention the moon landing, either."

"She thinks aliens did it," Ben explained solemnly.

"The moon landing or whatever's with the guy Jack's related to?" Regulus asked, confused. The looks that he got in return from Ben and Jack only increased his confusion, given they were staring at him like he had just said gravity was not real.

Ben then acquired an expression on his face that implied he was about to ask Regulus to instead ask Anna about whatever it was, but Jack glared at him with enough ill will that Ben shut his mouth, apparently feeling discretion was the better part of valor. "Either. Both," Jack replied quickly after. "Does it really matter?"

"Not really, no," Regulus replied, happy enough to let it go. Jack was likely to return the favor later if they veered into conversation territory Regulus wanted to avoid. That, and Anna's strange rants about ancient monuments and aliens were frighteningly reminiscent of Dorcas Meadowes' dissertations on the founding of Hogwarts. No, he shouldn't think about Dorcas. Thinking about Dorcas would only get him thinking about Sirius, and—

"Jack, I'm sorry, but I need to get going," Regulus said as he stood. Fishing a ten dollar bill out of his wallet, he gave it to Jack. "For my tab," he explained.

"Heading home?" Jack guessed, slipping the bill under the base of his drink.

"Yeah, I don't want Vesta to worry," Regulus answered. He really didn't. Hell, she had set a newspaper on fire that morning to keep him away from it, so she was probably already worried about him. If he wandered in at two in the morning, she would probably been sitting on the couch, not having slept. It wasn't fair to her if he simply swanned off.

Jack and Ben said their goodbyes, and Regulus left. He apparated back to the apartment from the alley next to the bar and threw his coat and scarf haphazardly on the coatrack before collapsing onto the sofa. Vesta was apparently already home, because Regulus heard her exit her room before mentioning, "I didn't expect you back so soon."

"Tired," Regulus replied tiredly. Wow, he really was not with it if he was repeating words that frequently. Slightly more coherently, he continued, "I ran into an old friend, and we had a long talk on how I need to either get over this or get laid. She thinks both is a good idea." Upon reflection, Regulus probably should have attempted to rein in the word-vomit.

"Who?" Vesta asked, sounding somewhat disturbed.

"Sitamun El-Amin," he replied, dragging himself into sitting up from his former less artful starfish impersonation. "She saw me and decided I needed to be force-fed pastries."

Vesta considered for a moment before saying, "Well, good for her. If someone can get you to be proactive with your health, I'll count it as a blessing. I had heard one of the El-Amin was around. I don't know why I assumed you _wouldn't_ know her."

"Her family's older than mine, and she doesn't call me a moron Roman just because of my name," Regulus mentioned, annoyed about the wide variety of nicknames soon to be unleashed upon him by the Egyptian healer. With a sigh, he just said, "It's complicated." It wasn't complicated at all, but he did not want to explain to her that Sitamun's family was concerned with his because of the kind of magic his specialized in. It was illegal and immoral, and he was better off not thinking about it, anyway.

"How're you holding up?" Vesta asked, switching gears to an equally unpleasant subject.

"Badly," he admitted, worrying his shirt cuff. "Sita dragged me off a bridge. I fucked up; I know that. I'm better now, but… I know what's going to happen. Knowing Crouch the asshole, he's already gone to the Minister to suspend some judicial concerns. Sirius is innocent, but he still has our last name. He's the perfect patsy to take a fall, thus showing Wizarding Britain that money and blood mean nothing in the eyes of the law, except right now there is no law. They're just going to toss him in Azkaban and throw away the key to make a damned point. As you and Jack and I think even Sitamun said, he's already guilty in the eyes of the people. I can't do anything about this from here, and even if I weren't thought to be dead, I could only hinder getting Sirius's name cleared. After all, who's going to listen to a Death Eater? I'd just get a matching cell, which honestly I probably deserve, but Sirius doesn't. He fucking doesn't.

"James Potter was his best friend and more of a brother to him than I ever was. Doesn't that count for anything? Doesn't anyone think maybe the Black who told the rest of the family to go fuck themselves and then went around actually fighting the good fight is the only decent one of us? What about the other Aurors? They fucking know him! They should know he'd never do anything like this! Jesus fucking Christ, this isn't a fucking difficult concept! All they have to do is talk to Mum, and she'd tell them he's a 'no-good blood traitor' or whatever bullshit invective is going through her head today! Of course, if they asked Bellatrix, she'd lie her ass off to try and get him the Kiss out of spite. How is it that that evil fucking bitch is—" Regulus broke off his rant as Vesta sat down next to him on the couch. She was clearly about to say something, but Regulus could not fucking stand hearing another iteration of—

"You're a good man, Regulus. Please never doubt that," she murmured, looking down at her hands on her lap. For some reason, she looked to be close to tears. "I wish I knew what to say to make you feel better, but I know words probably won't help."

Regulus was more than a little confused. Why was she upset? She wasn't really involved in this. Hell, she could really just have walked back into her room and left him to more or less yell at a wall. He probably should have just gone into his room and shouted for a bit, to be honest. The soundproofing spells would have taken care of the noise. "They won't," he eventually replied, mind racing to figure out what to say to convince her that she did not need to be upset over all this. He was silent as he tried to string words together, feeling more and more tense as time went by and his mind went progressively blank. Finally, he settled on quietly apologizing, "I'm sorry I upset you. I shouldn't have yelled."

"I—I'm fine," she replied, seemingly confused as well. "You have a right to be upset. I just wish I could help."

"Oh," he said inanely, feeling incredibly stupid. How in the world had he managed to miss realizing that she had been upset for him? "It's all right. I'm just—I'm just talking nonsense." More to himself, he muttered, "I'm such a fucking idiot."

Vesta suddenly hugged him, and Regulus stiffened reflexively, startled by the abrupt contact. "You're not an idiot," she said into his shoulder. He relaxed slightly into her arms as she continued, "And you're allowed to be upset."

"It's not right," he murmured. It wasn't. Everything was all wrong. Sirius was reckless and occasionally made stupid mistakes, but he was the good one of the two of them. He was the Auror and a poster child for the war effort. Hell, Regulus knew Sirius had one of the cleanest records of the DMLE: a good amount of arrests with none of the fatalities of Crouch's more favored Aurors. "Sirius shouldn't be—Siri shouldn't—" Regulus tried to explain, his breath hitching every couple of words.

"I know. I know," Vesta said gently with a comforting hand on his back. With that simple gesture, he finally started crying in earnest and clung to Vesta like she was his only lifeline. She didn't seem to mind his incoherent attempts to articulate why everything in the world was wrong, from Sirius being in prison to Potter and not Regulus being dead and even the fact that he couldn't find any Jaffa cakes anywhere and nothing made sense at all in America like the money all being nearly identical but then paracetamol was available everywhere and why couldn't he have just died and spared everyone else the trouble but that wasn't true because everything else would have happened anyway, so what was the point in anything why did everything hurt.

Even as he rambled, Regulus was aware he was making little to no sense, but Vesta just held him and listened. Every so often, once he went off about how he was worthless, she would gently correct him, but deep in his heart he knew she was just trying to be kind and not let him go down that mental drain. Eventually, he began to calm down and stopped sobbing uncontrollably, although he wasn't able to stop crying. Somewhere along the line, he had let go of Vesta and just folded in on himself. "I'm really sorry," he managed with a sniff, right before Vesta handed him the box of tissues from beside the couch. "I've ruined your night."

"No, you haven't. I didn't have anything else to do, and I'm honestly surprised you held it together for so long," she said, waving away his concerns. "I'd have started in on my crying jag around the time I saw the newspaper."

Regulus shook his head. "You'd have gone to class, too," he corrected before adding another used tissue to the growing pile on the coffee table. "You know you would have. Maybe your friend Leah would've dragged you away from interacting with patients, but you'd have done the same thing. You wouldn't have snapped at everyone all day for minor things, either. You're strong like that."

Vesta chuckled. "If you say so, Regulus," she replied, not believing him. "Why don't you put a movie on? I'm going to order some take-out, and neither of us are going to work tomorrow. How's that sound?"

With a weak smile, he said, "It sounds good."

"Fantastic. Pick a film with a happy ending, won't you?" Vesta mentioned over her shoulder before picking up the phone to order the food.

Regulus nodded. He had no idea what he had done to deserve a friend like her.

* * *

 ** _Coming up: Anxiety and post-traumatic stress._**

 _29 October 2015_


	3. Chapter 3

While Regulus was definitely feeling better than he had the first day he had heard about Sirius's giant fuck-up, he still floated through the rest of the week in a big grey blur. He had managed to convince Vesta he was all right on Tuesday morning, although that had more been because classes helped more than sitting around and wallowing in pain. The weekend was slightly more difficult because he had more time to himself, but he tried to chew up the time with reading for his classes and seeing a movie or two. The next Wednesday morning saw him meeting with his history professor about a research paper, but that day had not been the best for a variety of reasons completely unrelated to school. Thankfully, Jack and the others had not pried. Vesta on the other hand had realized that weekend that he had let his birthday pass completely unremarked and promptly felt horribly, prompting Regulus to reassure her it really was not a big deal. After all, since he had not brought it up, he had not needed to force himself not to think about his family. He wasn't sure how his parents felt, to be honest, but Sirius's brief descent into alcoholism had been fairly easy to read. Narcissa was probably upset in her own way, but that did not change the fact that Regulus still felt guilty for letting them think he was dead. (He also knew he was lying to himself, because Vesta had mentioned that his father and Sirius had thrown a shouting match his funeral, and Narcissa had thrown wine in Bellatrix's face while his mum had been sobbing hysterically in the background. He deserved to feel guilty.)

Regardless, Vesta had dragged him out for a nice dinner. Near the end, she offhandedly mentioned, "By the way, Mom and Dad insisted on inviting you to Thanksgiving with the family. Demi and Ceres's families all descend en mass along with my aunts and uncles, so one more person isn't really a burden."

"I don't want to intrude," Regulus replied automatically, trying to think of a way out of the situation. Despite how the concept of the holiday was rather perplexing to him, he had gathered that it was typically about family, and he really did not want to intrude. Besides, she was probably only asking to be kind. "I don't mind spending a couple days to myself," he added, still somewhat stalling. He belatedly realized that was not the best argument to use, given his current mental state

"It's really not a problem," Vesta insisted, absentmindedly stirring her soup. "Uncle Vic can run interference between you and Sia, if that's what you're worried about."

Regulus had not considered that Artemesia might be there until Vesta had said so. "I really don't think that would work so well," he admitted slowly. The only situation he could think of resulted in Artemesia shouting obscenities and throwing various objects in his general direction. "I don't exactly have a place to stay, either, and I couldn't impose upon—"

"Mom's already said she'd shove an extra cot somewhere," Vesta mentioned reasonably, waving a hand in dismissal. With a frown, she added, "If you really feel that uncomfortable about it, it's fine. My family can be pretty overwhelming, especially at holidays."

The thought that she was sincerely making the offer finally crossed his mind, but Regulus was not sure if this was even a good idea. Yes, he probably should not be left alone in the apartment for a couple days. Stupidly, he had not managed to ask Sitamun exactly where she was working or any other information that would have allowed him to talk to her, and he would not be able to find Jack or the others if they were on holiday. If Vesta really did not mind… Regulus quickly back-tracked, "I mean, if you're absolutely sure it's not a bother—"

"It's not," Vesta interrupted a little awkwardly.

"All right," Regulus said, at something of a loss for words.

After a short silence, Vesta changed the subject entirely to a much more comfortable topic, and conversation returned to normal. Once back at the apartment, Regulus went over the conversation again in his mind and hoped he hadn't sounded too stupid or given in too easily. His mother and his aunt had always offered to do things that each had to turn down multiple times until they were sure it was a sincere offer. Half the time, his mother did not actually want to invite Aunt Druella to anything, but his father felt they were generally obligated to, given that if Mum invited Uncle Al and his partner then there was no real reason not to invite Dad's sister-in-law. Oh, God, maybe Vesta had just been being nice. Trying not to think too much more about it, Regulus managed to fall asleep. The next morning, Vesta reassured him that her parents had indeed insisted he come with her.

Other than that, life continued. Regulus went out drinking with Jack, Ben, and the rest fairly regularly. Satine insisted they go see some fantasy movie directed by one of the Pythons. Regulus barely scraped by with a decent grade on an alchemy practical, convincing him that maybe he should avoid any magic classes for the foreseeable future. Vesta insisted that his magic would come back to where it had been, but Regulus sincerely doubted it. Anna likewise encouraged him to take classes that focused on more passive magical forms like dowsing or forms guaranteed to work such as blood magic, which had been supremely unhelpful if well-meant. He had absolutely no talent at metallomancy nor anything plant-related, and more importantly, he had never had any talent in either, ignoring the fact that he could not even keep bamboo alive to save his life. However, he had been good at potions, and he should have been good at alchemy. He understood it, but nothing was working. That said, Regulus had been practicing healing spells on himself ever since he had regained the stamina, and he was able to easily cast the minor ones again. He had no interest in learning if the family magic would recover. Even if he was still damned with it, he would rather not know. Anna sarcastically bringing up every Dark Art known to man never helped Regulus's temper when he began to complain, but he realized she just didn't want to listen to him whine.

"You could always try the History of Necromancy class," Anna suggested one night, having run out of every other dark-aligned elective.

"Thanks for not suggesting I take it straight," Regulus bit out sarcastically. He was two beers in, and he felt justified in being snippy.

"It's still illegal," Jack mentioned off-handedly. "Can't teach it if you can't practice it."

Ben was feeling equanimous and shrugged, deciding tonight he would be keeping the peace between Regulus and Anna. Patiently, he commented, "Doesn't mean you can't teach it, really. Mediums aren't illegal. Neither are exorcists. That said, History of Necro's a fairly popular class, Anna. You're scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"Well, Lee's still bitching about maybe 'failing' Alchemy," Anna defended herself in a huff. "He's annoying as hell about it."

Drunk and exhausted at defending his worrying, Regulus finally just admitted, "I can't use my magic, okay? I used to be able to cast high-level healing spells, but I haven't been able to get a journeyman-level healing spell right since—" He cut himself off, well aware he was just whining at that point. "What does it fucking matter? What's done is done."

Anna made an exasperated noise. "That's why I told you to take the Innate Magics class! It may be the magical Rocks for Jocks, but you'll be able to ace it despite whatever's going on," she argued. "I know that crash you were in was recent, but you should get over it soon."

"Anna!" Ben exclaimed reproachfully as Regulus tensed, sitting stock-still.

Anna looked annoyed at Ben before she actually considered what she said. Backtracking immediately, she babbled, "Oh, Jesus, Lee, I didn't mean it like that. Of course I don't think you should 'get over'—" She had the grace to cut herself off before rephrasing, "You're still healing, which is the whole problem, right? That's what I meant to say, not that… I'm just digging a hole, so I'll shut up now."

Regulus waved off her apology. He did not have any real emotional investment in the story he had given, so it cost him nothing to forgive her. "It's fine. I know what you meant," he murmured, suddenly realizing that part of his stupid cover was close to true now. Sirius might not have been dead, but he was in Azkaban.

Anna was suddenly hugging him for some reason, and Regulus was surprised to find she had tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry!" she drunkenly whined. "I didn't mean to make you sad!" Regulus considered prying her away from him, but he decided he was not sober enough to make the effort and just patted Anna's head awkwardly. Ben not so subtly poured Anna's remaining beer into his own pint, probably intent on cutting her off.

Jack took the opportunity to start complaining again about his insufferable cousin's soon-to-be engagement, earning Regulus's gratitude for taking the heat off him. Anna managed to pass out on him, however, which annoyed Regulus if only due to the fact she tended to drool. Ben attempted to play peacemaker to help Jack with dealing with the cousin, but privately Regulus agreed that Jack's cousin sounded like a giant douchebag. Anna awoke at some point and ordered another round of fish and chips from the bar, devouring the food with an almost frightening intensity. Once Ben started in on his relationship woes with Satine, Anna declared it was time to pay their bills and leave.

Regulus walked with Jack back to their dorm, even though he was just going to apparate home once they got there. "You all right?" Jack asked suddenly, a couple blocks away from campus.

"I don't know," Regulus replied honestly, trying to warm his hands in his coat pockets. The winter chill still managed to seep in and turn his hands to ice. "I think I'm just tired."

Jack frowned. "Lee, you've been like this for weeks," he observed gently, as if Regulus were going to startle like some injured animal. "I know you're processing what happened to your friends, but… We're worried about you."

"I know. I'm sorry," Regulus apologized softly, having come to a stop. He was avoiding his problems, but he had thought Jack and the others hadn't noticed. Barty would have noticed. Hell, Barty would have noticed the day of and not let Regulus out of his sight for a couple months, prompting Sirius to go all overprotective-big-brother on Regulus because of his stupid paranoid conspiracy theories on how Barty was a bad influence. (Regulus was the bad influence on Barty, not the other way around, but would Sirius ever listen? No.) Sirius would have drawn Narcissa into it, and she would have "eliminated" the problem. Subtly, of course. Merlin forbid Narcissa ever did anything that could be traced back to her.

Jack's be-mittened hand was suddenly on Regulus's shoulder, and his friend said, "Lee, please don't apologize for that. Hell, this is part of why we're worried. Half the time you look like you're just going through the motions, and—We know you'd never do anything rash—"

Regulus snorted. Yes, he hadn't ever tried to commit suicide. He had completely meant to survive the cave. Regulus froze, realizing what he had inadvertently admitted. Taking a step back, he tried to undo the damage and rambled frantically, "Not that I—I wasn't thinking. I was in a bad place, and I didn't think…" Regulus let himself trail off. No, that had not helped at all.

Jack was staring at him in shock.

Regulus looked down at the ground. "I don't want to talk about it," he murmured.

After a silent moment, Jack replied, "You don't have to."

"Thank you," Regulus said softly, absently using a glove to wipe at his face.

They walked the rest of the way back to the dorm in silence. Inside, the building was comfortably warm, and Regulus let himself relax slightly. "Please don't tell the others," he requested abruptly. He knew Jack would have left it alone, but he needed his friend to say it. "It was a mistake—" _Lies_. "—and I didn't want Si—my brother to try and fix everything, so I…"

"Lee, you don't need to explain. Really," Jack said earnestly, looking fairly concerned at what little Regulus had said. Grimacing, he agreed, "I won't tell anyone. I promise. But… Have you talked to anyone about all that's wrong?"

"Vesta knows," Regulus replied, feeling a little lightheaded at the thought. His hand absently went to his neck. She knew everything about _that_ , from his failed suicide to Bellatrix slitting his throat. "She thinks I should see a doctor."

Jack looked even more concerned and also slightly puzzled. "Lee, if she's been saying that, why haven't you?" he asked, not intending any offense. "I mean, if she's that upset about how bad you've been feeling, then… Lee, that's without her knowing you're crazy about her and it's tearing you up inside."

"She deserves someone better than me," Regulus insisted. It was almost a litany at this point. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "It doesn't matter, Jack. I'm trying to keep everything together. I swear. I won't—I won't try to kill myself again. The last time was—" The last time was for the greater good. "It won't happen again," he insisted.

Despite how it looked as if Jack wasn't sure he could trust Regulus, he agreed, "All right. Are you heading back to your apartment?"

Regulus nodded jerkily. "Vesta'll freak out if I don't go home tonight," he admitted.

"Please feel better, Lee," Jack said.

"I'll try," Regulus murmured before saying good night and apparating away. Inisde the apartment, he threw his scarf and coat on a free chair and bent to untie his shoes. Vesta had some friends over, so there was no use in trying to find a free hook on the coatrack for his overcoat. The medical students were giggling over something, but when he asked where Vesta was, they said she was retrieving some pizza. Regulus made a non-committal noise and hid in his room.

Oh, God, why had he admitted what he had to Jack? Could he never do anything right? He was such a goddamned fuck-up, but he at least had enough self-control not to sob into his pillow. The fact that he couldn't stop crying was embarrassing enough, but at least he had been able to wait until no one else could see him before shattering into a million pieces.

He heard Vesta return about fifteen minutes later amid cheers while he was still trying to dispose of the snotrags he had gone through. He figured at least some of the collected group were stricken with the munchies, given the less-than-coherent declarations of everlasting love. Having been informed he was around, Vesta knocked on the door to his room. Regulus wiped at his eyes with his sleeve one last time before answering. He probably still looked a mess, but Vesta didn't need to have her night ruined.

"Pizza?" she offered with a grin once he'd opened the door. Given that her face was flushed with either booze or the cold, Regulus figured she had gone to the pizza place in her pyjamas and winter coat.

Barely needing to muster a smile, he replied, "Thanks, but I ate with Jack and the others."

"Just wanted to check. We're gonna watch a movie, so I figured I'd ask," Vesta explained, making slightly less sense than she probably intended. She had also gestured with the pizza to emphasize her point, causing Regulus to genuinely grin.

"Well, I appreciate it," he told her, feeling better despite himself. "I am really tired, though, but maybe next time."

"I will hold you to that," Vesta declared, very obviously drunk at this point. She overbalanced into his chest with a squeak, and hopefully he had helped right her without flushing red at any of the physical contact. "Oops," she said, now leaning against the door, somehow with the pizza still balanced on the paper plate. "Anyway… Haveagoodnight," she declared, shutting the door in her own face.

Regulus decided he did not want to know what the hell that was about, except for the fact that he heard through the door Vesta half-screech at one of her friends about throwing around numbing jinxes at inopportune times. However, that just set him to thinking about how she had felt pressed up against him, and he flopped onto his bed in frustration. He did not need to fantasize about something that could never happen, not with everything else such as it was. While idly wondering if one could suffocate oneself with a pillow, Regulus stalked into his bathroom to take a cold shower.

Afterward, he regretted that he had actually kept the water ice cold. Hastily, he dried himself off and dressed, hoping his head hurt simply because he had followed through on his decision not to turn on the hot water. He was toweling off his hair when he realized that he hadn't been imagining the headache and thus would have to find wherever he had stashed the ibuprofen. He was still freezing, so he wrapped himself in a blanket off his bed before rummaging through all the bathroom cabinets. Aside from some cough syrup, he came up empty-handed. Right, Vesta had borrowed the pills the other day for a hangover.

He was going to have to deal with the group of drunken women.

With a sigh, he pulled on a pair of lounge pants over his boxers. If it had just been Vesta and her friend Mary, Regulus would not have even cared that he would have to wander past them in the ratty t-shirt he was wearing. He felt stupid for feeling self-conscious, but he changed into a waffle shirt regardless. It went to his wrists, completely covering the scarring where the Mark used to be. That it covered the rest of the scars on his arms was only a bonus.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he walked back into the main room of the apartment and immediately asked Vesta, "Do you know where the Advil is?"

"Nightstand," Vesta replied off-handedly, not even glancing away from the television and nursing yet another beer. While she was riveted to the screen, a couple of the others weren't, and Regulus quickly walked around the back of the couch to Vesta's room, which was a mess as usual. Her clothes were tossed haphazardly on the floor in one corner. Her textbooks were piled on her vanity next to the meticulously organized nail polish collection.

"… but he's obviously interested, so why haven't you hit that yet?" one of Vesta's friends inquired sotto voce, still clearly audible over the soundtrack of the movie.

Mary came to the rescue and hit whoever said that, hissing, "He can hear you, dumbass. The kid's shy, not deaf."

His face burning, Regulus grabbed the pills off Vesta's nightstand. Pretending he had not heard the exchange, he walked back to his room and managed to refrain from slamming the door behind him. He took two of the pills and changed back into his normal sleep shirt. Deciding to just deal with the fact his hair was going to take forever to dry, he crawled into bed and tried to warm up. He hated himself for being upset that Vesta considered him simply her friend. Yes, it could hurt like hell that he cared about her in a way she did not reciprocate, but he did not want to fuck up the relationship he did have with her. Besides, he would get over it. He had always been able to before. Of course, he had not been living with any of the other women at the time.

"Sorry for saying that, Vesta," the woman from earlier said, this time trying to be a bit quieter. Regulus groaned. Why could he hear them through the door? He pulled the covers over his head to muffle the noise. Actually soundproofing the door would be an exercise in futility, since if he then wanted to take it off, he'd have to redo all the other spells that would be cancelled at the same time. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough, and he managed to fall asleep without overhearing anything else.

The next morning, he woke up before Vesta did. The coffee table in front of the television was a mess, but Regulus honestly expected nothing less. At least there was not pizza covering the floor or any liquor bottles to trip over. His headache had not abated, and he glared out the window at the weather. He did not have any homework this weekend, and that was how he was rewarded? Misery?

While he was staring out the window forlornly, Vesta wandered in, with her hair plastered to the side of her face. She blinked slowly upon observing the look on his face before following his line of sight. "Oh, fucksticks," she swore.

Regulus laughed at her word-choice before wincing at the noise.

Vesta glanced again at him, taking in his appearance. "You look like hell," she commented, shambling over to the sink to put on some hot water for tea. After a moment, she continued, "I'm sorry about Lyanna last night. She gets loud and stupid when she's drunk."

"It's fine," Regulus replied as he sat down at one of the chairs at the kitchen island. He handed Vesta the bread when she couldn't find it to make any toast. "You all seemed a little wasted. I'm sorry I wasn't a better sport about it."

Vesta looked at him with annoyance and mentioned, "I don't know why you blame yourself for other people acting like assholes, Regulus. She made you uncomfortable, and it was really fucking obvious." She sighed and continued apologetically, "It was a douche move, and I'm sorry I didn't say anything before Mary did her smack-down."

Regulus made a noncommittal noise. He did not want to talk about this at all.

"Hangover?" Vesta suggested, setting a cup of tea in front of him. She was still waiting for the toaster to finish toasting the bread.

"Migraine," he corrected, wondering where he had left his cereal. "You?"

"Eh, not really. I drank a lot of water and ate a fuckload of pizza," she explained as the toaster finally finished with the bread. She shoved the Cheerios in his face before grabbing the jam from the fridge.

"Thanks," he murmured, staring blankly at the offending food as she dealt with the toast.

"Something's wrong," Vesta observed. "What's up?"

Regulus shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm just tired, really," he dissembled. "The weather's miserable, and I've got this stupid migraine, and the usual."

Vesta looked guilty for some reason and asked, "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, thank Merlin. That would have been the crowning moment of shit on an already crap day," he replied darkly. In for a penny, in for a pound. Regulus continued bitterly, "Anna was belligerent, said some stupid shit, and caused Jack to try and give me an intervention. I, being a fucking genius, then accidentally let on I've tried to kill myself, and now he's probably freaking out even more than he already had been."

"Then you got a headache, Lyanna harassed you, and now the weather's shit?" Vesta finished, looking slightly more amused than she should have. His life was pain, dammit.

Regulus knew she was just teasing him to try and cheer him up. He really did.

"Oh, shit, Regulus, I'm sorry," she said, rushing around to the other side of the table to hug him. She let go of him fairly quickly, thankfully, since he had almost spilled the tea all over the both of them. Finally, her mind caught up with what he had actually said, and she demanded, "Wait, how did what happened come up with your friend Jack?" Vesta never flat-out said and generally refused to acknowledge that he had attempted suicide, so Regulus wasn't too surprised she glossed it over yet again.

He shrugged. "They're worried," he explained.

"Regulus…"

Fidgeting with the teacup, he clarified, "He was saying they're worried about me but that they knew I'd never do anything to hurt myself, and I laughed at that and then tried to back-track, and now Jack probably thinks I'm even crazier than he already thought." Vesta didn't need to know the rest of it, given that he had been party to a wonderful reiteration of her feelings on the matter the night before.

"I don't understand why you're ashamed of what happened, you know," she mentioned, picking at some lint on her pyjama pants. She gently laid one of her hands on his. "It was brave."

"I'm sure knowing that was such a relief to Sirius and my parents when he told them I was dead," he retorted brusquely, snatching his hand away from hers. He did not deserve to feel better, and he did not want her pity.

"You really don't think your brother would have been proud of you?" she demanded angrily. "Are you really that intent on retroactively blaming yourself for every fuck-up of his that you won't even—For fuck's sake, if you have to blame someone, blame that fucking bitch who did this to you!"

Regulus snapped and shouted, "I fucking let her! I could have said no!"

Vesta stared at him in disbelief and shouted right back, "Are you insane? Bellatrix Lestrange is fucking terrifying to me, and I've never even met her!" In a fury, she reminded them both of the real reason he was such a fucking mess, "After everything that evil fucking bitch did to you, from the torture to—and yet somehow you still make excuses for her!" Quietly, levelly, Vesta asked, "Do you have any idea how much it hurts to listen when you say this shit?"

"Shut up!" He stepped back from her and shut his eyes, digging his hands into his hair. He did not have to listen to her, not about this.

"No! I will not fucking shut up!" she yelled at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him as if to snap him out of it. "You're tearing yourself apart over things that aren't your fault, and I won't fucking let you!" More pleadingly, she demanded, "Goddammit, let me help!"

"Shut the fuck up!" he repeated, breaking away from her. She needed to stop fucking talking about this! "I let Bella do what she wanted. I deserved it," he slowly ground out, shaking with anger. It wasn't fear, and it wasn't shame; it was anger. It _was_. "For all the times I stood by and did nothing; for never saying 'no, this is wrong'. I deserve what she fucking did to me!"

"You really think you deserve to wake up screaming most nights? To go into a blind fucking panic over the stupidest shit?" Vesta demanded, upset for no goddamned fucking reason. "How can you think you deserve that? How, damn you?!"

"Please stop talking about this!" he cried, almost knocking over a lamp as stepped backwards into the couch. Why was she still talking about this? "Please stop…"

The anger left Vesta's face. She made to take his hand and murmured, "Regulus, I…"

He flinched as if scalded and shouted, "Don't fucking touch me!" Oh, God, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't—

Suddenly sitting next to him on the back of the couch, Vesta handed him a brown paper bag from somewhere. "Breathe into it. It'll help," she said, staring down at her hands. He did as she said and ignored her. With a sigh, she continued, "I shouldn't have pushed you. I'm sorry."

Regulus stared adamantly at the wall and said nothing. The stupid bag helped, but he was not going to admit it. He didn't have to accept her apology, either. Why had she seen the need to bring any of it up, anyway? It was in the past, and he saw no reason to think about it. It didn't matter if she was right, but—He was not going to cry. He was twenty years old, and boys didn't cry. There was nothing fucking wrong with him. Dammit, he was such an awful liar. He couldn't even believe himself. His breath hitched. "It won't stop hurting," he managed, wondering why she even cared. "It's been almost a year, and it won't stop." He covered his face with his hands and asked pathetically, "Why won't it stop?"

"I don't know," Vesta replied, her eyes glassy. She sniffed and murmured, "I wish I could make it stop. I wish you didn't hurt like this."

"I should be dead," he said absently, all the fight draining out of him. "Then nothing would hurt anymore." He could feel himself crying but could barely register it.

Without saying a word, Vesta guided him back into his room and helped him back into bed. She covered him with an extra blanket and made to leave. "Please don't go," he begged, hating himself for being so weak.

She looked heartbroken but promised, "I won't." She climbed onto the bed next to him and sat a couple inches away, leaning against the headboard.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. He hadn't meant to hurt her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—I'm sorry." He curled up under the covers, still facing away from her. What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn't have taken any of this out on her. "I shouldn't have said all that."

"It's okay," Vesta replied softly, brushing his hair out of his face. Her touch lingered for a moment before she said, "I said things I shouldn't have, too."

"Doesn't mean you weren't right," he admitted quietly, turning to look at her.

"Go to sleep, Regulus," she said gently, with a sad smile. "We can talk about it later. Really." He must have looked uncertain, since she added, "I forgive you, even though there's nothing to forgive. Really, you look awful. Please go to sleep? You know you'll feel better."

He nodded almost mechanically before curling back onto his side. He slowly relaxed as she ran her fingers through his hair. How could she forgive him so easily? He envied her that, being able to let go. He really did.

He drifted off before he could realize she was crying.

* * *

 _ **Coming Up: Thanksgiving.**_

 _5 November 2015_


	4. Chapter 4

_This is the last of the chapters I already had written, and so this chapter is probably going to be the last for a couple weeks. I hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Re—Leander, stop fidgeting with your shirt collar. You look fine," Vesta reassured him, swatting his hands away from the collar of his coat. She had just rung the doorbell at her parents' house, and they were waiting for someone to answer the door. That Vesta was already almost calling him the wrong name did not reassure him in the slightest. Honestly, Regulus already felt like an interloper, and he was only standing outside in the freezing cold. There was a thump from indoors, and Vesta winced. With a groan, she complained, "Oh, God, if Diana and Athena are already bouncing off the walls…"

The door opened, and Regulus stepped out of the way as Vesta's mother engulfed her in a giant hug. "Vesta! Oh, darling, it's so wonderful to see you!" she exclaimed, beaming at her daughter. "Demi just called to say they're running a little late, and Ceres is operating on Ceres time, so God only knows when she'll appear. Honey, you look fantastic. Have you lost weight?"

Regulus was frozen in confusion. Was this how normal families behaved? Was he supposed to stay where he was until Vesta introduced him? Was he supposed to introduce himself? Why had he thought this would be a decent idea? None of Narcissa's incessant instruction on etiquette and protocol had ever prepared him for this!

"Mom! Do you have to say that every time I come home for the holidays?" Vesta demanded in good humor. Her mother sent her a look that caused Vesta to roll her eyes. "Fine. Can we at least come in? I'm freezing my ass off."

Vesta's mother finally seemed to notice Regulus. She smiled brightly and ushered the two of them inside. Taking their coats, she inquired, "Are you going to introduce us, young lady, or have you lost all sense of courtesy?"

Vesta feigned being puzzled and joked, "Courtesy? What's that? I don't remember being taught such a thing." Regulus was just glad she was the one to say something, because he had honestly been about to introduce himself with his real name before she had spoken up. "Mom, this is Leander Gray. Leander, this is my mom, Juno."

At least Narcissa's infinite drilling came in use somehow, because Regulus automatically took off his gloves and shook hands with Vesta's mum. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Dinoso," he said, hoping he hadn't managed to bungle things somehow. He was fairly certain there was a better way to introduce himself to a lady, but Narcissa's opinions tended to be a century in the past and for landed gentry, which was probably why Sirius always tuned her out.

"Oh, please, call me Juno!" she insisted with a wave. To Vesta, she mentioned, "I've set up your room with the cot, by the by. Theseus can't be bothered to stay sober enough to fly or get a hotel room, so he'll be staying over tomorrow night on the sofa. And yes, I made up your bed with your old quilt, even if it is falling apart. I wasn't going to give it to anyone else."

Vesta had a forced smile on her face. " _Everyone_ is coming for Thanksgiving? I thought Sia and Hermes would skip out again," she said in a tone giving Regulus the impression that was a bad thing. Wait, no, that was a bad thing. Oh, Merlin, he was going to have to avoid Sia.

"Well, yes. I know you're not too fond of your aunt," Mrs. Dinoso began placatingly.

"Mom, Aunt Hera's nuttier than a fruitcake," Vesta reminded her seriously. "I'm sure Sia'd be married off in a political union with some jackass muckety-muck if she hadn't gone and 'dishonored herself' or whatever Aunt Hera's calling it today."

Seriously, Mrs. Dinoso mentioned, "You better not say that around the poor girl. She's going through a hard time right now. It's a pity what happened to her boyfriend."

"Hey, I'm not stupid," Vesta said. She pinched the bridge of her nose and told Regulus, "I'll show you where my room is. You can drop your bookbag off, and then I'll introduce you to the brats." She grabbed Regulus by the arm and dragged him up the stairs, leaving her mother shaking her head and trying not to laugh. The room Vesta practically shoved him into what was honestly a much cleaner if more cluttered version of her room at the apartment. Vesta dropped her small suitcase at the foot of the bed.

Regulus smiled. The quilt on the bed really was a ratty old thing. Then again, the comforter on Regulus's bed at his parents' house was almost as old as he was, so it wasn't like he had any room to talk. He sat down on the cot and immediately began to doubt its structural integrity, if the noise it had made was any indication.

"Of course Mom gave you the squeaky cot," Vesta muttered to herself as she threw open her suitcase and began searching for something. After a moment, she stopped rummaging and asked quietly, "Are you going to be okay when Sia drops by? I was kind of hoping she'd skip again this year, but I guess it was a stupid thing to think."

"Does she know?" Regulus asked, setting down the bookbag he had haphazardly shoved a couple changes of clothes into the night before. "About me? I mean, your uncle does, but…"

Vesta grimaced and admitted, "I was under the impression she didn't know. I would think that Uncle Vic will have told her before they come by, given that Mom likely annoyed Aunt Hera to all hell about the seating arrangements tomorrow." Sounding a little embarrassed, she offered, "You know, I can take the cot. It's old as dirt, and even if the mattress is a little lumpy, my bed isn't as uncomfortable."

"It's fine," Regulus assured her, suddenly realizing he had forgotten to pack toothpaste. He always did that. Hell, half the holidays he had been on as a child had some sort of interlude where Sirius complained to their mum about Regulus filching his toothpaste. "I've slept in worse places," he admitted, thinking of the time he had passed out drunk on the floor of the Slytherin common room during his seventh year. That had been one hell of a party.

"Right," Vesta said. Apparently, she had been looking for her toothbrush, because once she found the bag containing her toiletries, she showed Regulus where the nearest bathroom was. "Tomorrow morning is going to be a shitshow," she mentioned, gesturing at the shower. "If Ceres and Demeter don't take up all the hot water, Diana'll probably just run the water until its cold for shits and giggles."

Regulus followed her around as she gave him a tour of the house. They were theoretically looking for her little sisters, but he could only barely keep up with Vesta's running commentary on how chaotic the next couple days were going to be. Maybe he should have just stayed at the apartment. After his breakdown a couple days prior, Vesta had been walking on eggshells around him, which had been depressingly understandable. He should not have lost his temper like that. However, Vesta was right that he shouldn't be left alone for a while. Hell, he had even told her as much. Regulus still felt horrible for behaving like he had. Yes, he had been a little emotionally unbalanced, but that had been no excuse for yelling at Vesta like that.

Vesta had just led him into the living room when her sisters "attacked". They were making aircraft noises, and Vesta just seemed a little exasperated with them, briefly reminding Regulus of Andromeda. Athena and Diana were twins, like Vesta's older sisters. According to what Vesta had told him in the past, Athena was the blond girl, and Diana was something of a hellion. The girls were supposed to be watching a movie, and Vesta's mother called her into the kitchen. Vesta looked apologetic when she asked Regulus to watch the two of them, even though they appeared to have been fine on their own.

The girls seemed to feel the same way and went back to their positions staring at the television. Feeling at a loss, Regulus seated himself on the opposite end of the couch and tried to relax a little. He kept telling himself that had no reason to feel nervous, that he didn't need to be so on edge, but none of that thinking helped him in the slightest. He should have stayed home. He was intruding.

"Why is your face all funny?" Diana asked seemingly out of nowhere. When had she sat on the couch next to him?

"Diana! You can't just ask people why they look weird!" Athena scolded from her position on the floor. To Regulus, she asked, "When are you going to marry Vesta?"

Regulus suppressed the urge to call for help. He could deal with a pair of eleven-year-olds, even if they were asking awkward questions. First things first, though: "Vesta and I are just friends," he replied, starting with the less complicated answer. "We live together because it's less expensive to share an apartment than to pay rent on your own."

Alas, the child was not taking that for an answer and continued blithely, "You're prettier than her last boyfriend." Athena then resumed watching the television. The girl's sister nodded her agreement from her perch on the couch and added, "Even if your face is all weird."

He was being ganged up on by a pair of children. Yes, he had been able to babysit Nymphadora on numerous occasions, and she was about the same age. However, she was a normal child (who admittedly had a bizarre obsession with saving dragons from evil witches in dominatrix gear). "I was in a car accident," Regulus lied, giving the company line about why he looked a mess. He still thought it was a fairly pathetic explanation, but most people seemed to accept it without a second thought. To emphasize his point, Regulus rolled up his right sleeve to his elbow and let Diana gawk at the scars. "See? I got hurt really bad, so the doctors couldn't fix everything all the way," he explained. "They had to decide what was most important, and making sure my insides weren't broken was more important than making everything look nice."

Diana furrowed her eyebrows. "Can't you get rid of it with magic?" she asked.

"Magic can't fix everything," Regulus replied sadly, pulling his sleeve back down to his wrist. He wished magic could fix everything, but he had known for a long time that was a pipe dream. No, the best he could hope for was Sitamun repairing the remaining damage to his knee and ankle. The medwizard who had fixed Regulus's leg to begin with had done a masterful job; Regulus could still walk, and that was proof enough. However, Sitamun was better than most at soft-tissue repairs, as she had impressed upon him over tea that day. He couldn't say all of that to a child, though, so he prevaricated, "I'm still not all better, and it can be dangerous trying to fix things that are already healed."

"Diana, you're making him sad. Stop it," Athena complained without so much as glancing their way. "Vesta'll get upset, and then Mom'll make us do the dishes."

"How do you know that? You're staring at the TV!" Diana argued.

Regulus smiled weakly. "It's all right," he reassured them. He did well enough depressing himself without the interference of anyone else, let alone a couple of inquisitive kids that didn't mean any harm. "I'm just tired."

Diana appeared unconvinced, but since Regulus had freed her of all responsibility on the matter, she resumed her former post sprawled at the other end of the couch. Regulus was glad of the temporary peace and quiet. The movie was an older film about bandits raiding a town and several samurai helping the villagers defend it. He could have sworn he'd seen a movie with a similar plot, but—Wait, why were the kids watching this? It was in black and white and subtitled. Regulus was about to ask just that when Athena supplied, "Dad was watching it before he left to go to the airport to pick up Demi and the others."

"Oh, so that's why Vesta didn't introduce your father," Regulus said fairly uselessly.

"Yep. Demi's flight's late, though," Diana agreed.

Regulus made a non-committal noise in response before falling back into watching the movie silently. Vesta appeared some time later to drag her sisters to the dinner table. As the girls ran off, Vesta stared at Regulus in concern and asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," he replied distractedly. He felt exhausted for some reason, but maybe that was just due to hunger. "Sorry."

Dinner turned out to be leftover lasagna from the night before. Regulus was embarrassed to admit he practically wolfed down what was on his plate. Vesta and her mother were talking about the most recent family drama with the two girls more or less ignoring them to chat about some cartoon. Given that he was vastly under-qualified to talk about either, he decided to listen to the adult conversation instead of the in-depth analysis of the mystery-solving skills of talking dogs. He asked how Sia was once she came up during the conversation, earning a wince from Vesta and a second serving of lasagna from Vesta's mother.

"It's kind of you to ask, dear," Mrs. Dinoso said as she handed him his plate back, before changing the subject entirely.

Regulus decided that maybe just focusing on the lasagna was the better plan than attempting to make conversation. Then again, maybe he shouldn't have asked after Artemesia. He actually really should not have asked after her, come to think of it. It was hard enough for him to think about what had happened to Sirius, and he had been a bloody Death Eater. How in the world would anyone explain to Vesta's little sisters why Artemesia's boyfriend wasn't going to be around anymore? Regulus morosely stabbed at the pasta, feeling like a goddamned idiot.

Vesta's sisters decided they were finished with dinner and ran off to go back to watching movies on the television. Once they were out of earshot, Mrs. Dinoso apologized, "I'm sorry for being so abrupt earlier when you asked how Artemesia was doing. She's been disconsolate, and Hera has not been helping in the slightest. However…"

"No, I understand," Regulus interjected, embarrassed he had made a fuss. "I wasn't thinking when I spoke. I should have realized it's not something you would want talked about in front of Athena and Diana."

"Leander and Artemesia were at school together," Vesta added in explanation, thankfully remembering to provide context where Regulus had not.

Before he could stop himself, he mentioned sadly, "It was an open secret she and Sirius—" Regulus stopped with a grimace. What the hell was he saying? Trying to get ahold of himself, he continued apologetically, "I'm sorry. I—he was a friend of mine, and I can't seem to stop saying stupid sh—stuff. It's been a long month."

"It's perfectly all right," Mrs. Dinoso replied sympathetically. The expression she wore was mostly indecipherable to Regulus, but the best he could say was that it had hints of pity. Despite how he was usually furious when his friends even vaguely looked like they pitied him, Regulus never felt the same sort of anger when adults his parents' age looked at him like that. The only way he could rationalize it was that maybe they saw their own children when they looked at him. It sounded stupid, and it was a meaningless distinction he made, but otherwise he had no idea why he did not get angry when Mr. Vector or, hell, even his history professor looked at him with the same expression.

Suddenly amazingly uncomfortable, Regulus made some excuse to leave the table. Vesta seemed to be a little concerned, but she didn't follow him. He wasn't sure if he was glad of that. Thankfully, he was easily able to locate Vesta's room. His chest hurt something fierce, and he climbed into the creaky cot masquerading as a bed, hoping it would go away on its own.

Regulus clawed at the pillow. He was such a soft little idiot. He couldn't even pretend to be normal for a couple hours. Vesta was going to be so angry with him. He deserved it. Regulus knew he was a damned waste of space. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken her this long to realize it. Granted, she'd probably be polite about it and only tell him after the holiday. It wouldn't do to make a scene. Mum had never really cared about making a scene when Uncle Al visited, though. All sins were forgiven then. Regulus and Sirius had been allowed to run around like wild children, even at holidays. Uncle Cygnus pretended it wasn't happening, even if Aunt Druella looked like she wanted to murder them. Dad would even show up on Christmas and spend the whole day with Sirius and Regulus and Mum. He was usually always working, but he'd take off time for Christmas through New Years. Because of that, Regulus had always looked forward to Christmas when he was little. But now—Now, Mum and Dad thought he was dead and Sirius a bloody murderer. They didn't deserve it. Sure, Mum had gone a bit spare, and Dad was never around, but that wasn't anywhere near a significant enough reason to condemn them to having to think that, especially when Sirius was damn well innocent and—Well, Regulus was a bloody coward, so maybe it was better they thought him dead.

"Are you all right?" Vesta asked gently, her hand lightly resting on his shoulder. Regulus hadn't noticed her enter the room. She looked more concerned than anything else, but he didn't understand why. He had been unforgivably rude.

"I'm fine," he murmured, bracing himself for the inevitable dressing-down.

Vesta's hand tensed for a moment before she replied, "For some reason I don't believe you." With a frown, she continued apologetically, "I should have realized that introducing you to everyone would have been stressful, and I really should have mentioned to you that no one's really talking about what happened with Artemesia." Regulus must have made a face at that, causing Vesta to add, "Mom's not upset. Really. Scout's honor."

"I shouldn't have said anything," he insisted, staring out the window. Vesta must have been sad or thought he was upset for some reason, because she started mucking about with his hair again. He didn't really want her to stop, but he did wonder why she ever bothered trying to make him feel better. He always slid back to being miserable in short repair.

Vesta finally mentioned gently, as if Regulus was made of spun glass, "If you're not feeling up to tomorrow, it's all right. My family's not exactly small, you know, and Mom and Dad won't mind if you're a bit more reclusive than usual. I've mentioned to them that you tire easily since you're still healing, so it's really not a big deal."

"I'll be fine," he reassured her, sitting up on the cot so he could speak to her and not the wall. Vesta looked like she had considered helping him sit up but thought better of it and so just let her hand drop to the edge of the cot. Why she was concerned was beyond Regulus, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Hesitantly, he covered her hand with his and admitted, "It just hit me that… I miss Mum and Dad. Sirius would look at me like I was crazy for saying that, but it's true. It's pretty hypocritical of him, anyway, since Dad wrote every couple weeks to make sure he hadn't gone and—" Regulus broke off. Why was he telling her this? She didn't need to borrow any of his family trouble.

Vesta appeared to feel torn before she replied, "You've every right to feel this way, you know that, right?" Given the sincere look she was giving him, Regulus figured she really meant that. Truly meant it, not just saying that in an attempt to make him feel better.

"I guess," he demurred, staring down at their hands. He did not deserve to be here or have her to lean on. Vesta deserved the world. He looked up to realize they were so close that he could make out the patterns in her irises. From farther away, her eyes were a blue-green, but with so little space between them he could see the flecks of brown as well. God, she was beautiful. If he had anything resembling a spine, he might have leaned in to close the distance between the two of them. However, he didn't, so he moved his hand and looked away. "I'm just tired. I'll feel better in the morning," he said, not sure whose benefit the words were truly for.

"All right," Vesta replied, sounding vaguely disappointed. She probably had hoped that he would be willing to talk about it. Regulus knew she thought talking about how he was feeling would help him, but he did not think anyone should voluntarily have to listen to him whine. "I'm going to stay up a while longer, but I'll try not to wake you."

Regulus smiled wanly. "I sleep like the dead, remember?" he reminded her with black humor. Well, he did unless—Regulus sighed internally. He did not have the energy to deal with that now, but he hated imposing on Vesta's generosity. With a grimace, he requested, "Would you mind casting a soundproofing spell? I don't think I can right now. I'm sorry for the trouble, but I don't fancy waking the whole house up at three in the morning…"

Vesta covered her mouth with her hand and swore, "Oh, shit, I totally forgot about that. Dammit." With an exasperated noise, she continued, annoyed at herself, "Of course, Regulus. It's no problem. I should have helped you cast it earlier." Digging her wand out of her purse, which she had retrieved from the general vicinity of her bed, Vesta cast a couple basic spells to make sure no one had to wake up wondering who was screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night. Satisfied that the spells had set properly, she apologized, "It's not the best work I've done, but I don't think I should do any of the heavy-duty ones. I don't want Mom getting ideas about _why_ I cast soundproofing spells."

"I take it this has to do with the squeaky cot?" Regulus joked. He wasn't dim, after all.

"Oh, God, don't remind me," Vesta grumbled, annoyed at the mere concept of the cot. "Really, if it's too uncomfortable, you can take the bed," she insisted.

"I'm fine," he reassured her, meaning it.

Vesta seemed to take him at his word this time and said goodnight. Despite her warnings, Regulus found the cot fairly comfortable, even if it did make an unholy amount of noise whenever he shifted. He fell asleep sometime before Vesta came back upstairs, and he was fairly proud of himself for only waking up once in the middle of the night. Better yet, he hadn't awoken Vesta or even her parents' cat, which was curled up on the pillow behind her head and snoring softly. Yes, he took some time to fall back to sleep, but that he managed not to disturb anyone else's sleep schedule was a victory in his mind.

When Regulus woke up in the morning, he was surprised to find it was 10:30 in the morning. Vesta was absent, but he figured she had tried to beat the rush she had said her sisters were going to make on the bathroom. Running his fingers through his hair, Regulus sat up before grabbing some clean clothes and the clean towel that he assumed Vesta had left for him. The aforementioned bathroom turned out to be free, so Regulus took advantage of the opportunity and showered. Alas, Vesta's prediction about the lack of hot water turned out to be true, and Regulus sincerely regretted not trying to wake up earlier than he had.

In any case, by the time he had dressed and managed to drag himself downstairs he discovered that the house had become even more chaotic than he had imagined it would be. A gaggle of children were in the living room watching some parade on the telly, and a number of Vesta's male relatives were arguing about whether they should watch the quodpot or football game and if so which team. Regulus decided that a tactical retreat to the kitchen was likely to calm his nerves. He was wrong, but Vesta thankfully noticed him first and set him in front of some garlic that needed dealt with, which honestly helped him relax more than he cared to admit.

Vesta tapped him on the shoulder a couple minutes later with some breakfast and tea. With a smile, she said, "I can finish mincing the garlic. Take some time to eat."

"All right," Regulus replied, washing his hands before taking the proffered plate and mug. His face twitched with a smile as he added, "Thanks, Vesta."

She dragged him out of the room without making it obvious she was, although one of her sisters was watching them leave. Regulus tried not to think about what that meant. Out in the hallway, Vesta suggested, "No one'll be around the stairs if you're not feeling up to socializing."

"I—" Regulus was about to protest that he was fine, but he knew there was no point to lying. Instead, he looked down at the floor and murmured, "Thank you for letting me know."

"It's no problem, R—Leander," she replied, looking vaguely uncomfortable to be using his fake name. Vesta narrowed her eyes at someone behind Regulus, but when he turned to look, no one was there. At his questioning look, Vesta said with some annoyance, "Don't worry about it. My sisters are just being nosy."

Regulus was sure he flushed and stammered, "It's fine. I'll—I'll just go eat breakfast."

"They react this way every time I bring a male friend around," Vesta explained, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry about this. I should have realized they'd do this."

Regulus knew that if their situations had been reversed Narcissa would be around every corner with Sirius regardless of what Regulus told them. Of course, Andromeda's daughter would not have asked Vesta when she was going to marry him. No, that would have been the girl's mother, probably joined by her younger sister and his brother. "It's fine. Really," Regulus murmured. "You know my brother and cousin would go full secret-agent man if we were at my parents' house for a holiday."

"I'm sure," Vesta said with a wry grin. "Eat your breakfast."

He smiled in return before retreating to the stairwell. He knew he was going to have to socialize at some point in the day, but he hoped to put it off as long as possible. Sitting on the stairs, Regulus ate the toast and bacon he had been supplied with. Vesta was being awfully kind to him about this stupid nervousness he had developed. He had always been leery of big crowds, but things had gotten worse since—Well, he had not always been so bad about it.

Regulus took a deep breath and set the now empty plate on the step next to him. Clutching at the mug, he tried to calm his nerves. There were too many people in the kitchen for him, but the other rooms were just as bad. Maybe he could volunteer to set the table or tables? He knew how to properly arrange the china and silverware; Mum had made sure of that, even if Kreacher was the one who normally did so for important occasions.

"…I don't like him," a woman's voice said. Regulus tensed. What the hell? He shouldn't have been able to overhear anything. The nearest room had the door closed, last he saw. Maybe the stairs were connected to the other room by the air vent?

"Really, Hera? Vesta finally brings a nice boy home, and all you can say is you don't like him?" Mrs. Dinoso demanded, sounding fairly angry.

The first voice shot back, "Juno, how long has your daughter even known him?" Regulus could have sworn he knew the first voice. He could have. "How did he end up looking like he does? Did you not notice the scars?"

"Vesta said he was in a car accident," Mrs. Dinoso replied in a less than amused tone of voice. "Given that he has been nothing but courteous and even asked after _your_ daughter's well-being, I'm inclined to trust Vesta's judgment."

Wait. Oh. Oh, God. The other woman was Artemesia's mother. No wonder she automatically hated him. He might not be Sirius's identical twin, but they did look remarkably similar. Regulus had generations of inbreeding to thank for that. "Really, Juno? A young British wizard who looks like he's been through a meat grinder was in a _car accident_?" Mrs. Vector demanded, unimpressed. "I've got a river to sell you, too."

"So Vesta's lying about the boy's war record; I'm sure she has her reasons. That said, look how many fucks I give, Hera. Look at them," Mrs. Dinoso shot back, probably with some grand gesture to accompany her words. Well, or a pair of hand gestures.

A third individual groaned theatrically and declared, "You're acting like five-year-olds, Mom, Aunt Hera. Vesta says they're just friends, so what does it matter? Besides, Mom, I don't know why you're all over Vesta with the baby-crazy. You've already got grandchildren, courtesy of yours truly and Ceres." This must have been Demeter, then.

Regulus shook himself out of the shock he had been in. This was inappropriate. He should not have been listening in on this conversation, especially given the topic, but he did not make a move. Despite what he knew he should have done, he was not going to go find another area to hide. Sometimes he really hated himself.

"I am not baby-crazy," Mrs. Dinoso objected. "I just want Vesta to be happy, and that young man seems to make her so."

"Well, yeah," Demeter agreed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He seems like a sweetheart, so I'm not surprised—"

At that, Regulus finally managed to stand so he could return the plates to the kitchen. The door to the dining room was still shut, so he at least was secure in the knowledge that Vesta's relatives would not realize he had heard any of their conversation. Besides, they had it backwards. He and Vesta were really only friends. By some miracle, she did seem to tolerate if not enjoy his company. However, he was well aware she had no interest in him romantically, and he was fine with that. (He was. When that fact was finally proven definitively, it would probably break his heart, but he would rather have her as a friend than nothing, so he had to be fine with the fact she was not interested. He was fine with it. He was.)

After dropping the plate off in the kitchen, he slipped out to the back yard. It was freezing out, but he had the tea, so he could stay warm for a while. On the bright side, at least he seemed to have made something of a good impression on Vesta's mother, even if she did have the wrong idea concerning the understanding between him and her daughter. Artemesia's mother's rancor towards Regulus was not too strange, either, considering the woman's feelings towards Sirius even when his stupid older brother hadn't supposedly been a mass murdering fuckhead.

"Isn't it a little cold out not to be wearing a jacket?"

Regulus startled and looked up to see Vesta's father. At least, he assumed the older man was Vesta's father. "Sir," Regulus said reflexively, internally panicking.

"You don't need to look like a deer in the headlights, kiddo," Mr. Dinoso laughed. "I'm not going to bite. Besides, I don't blame you for trying to escape the madhouse. Why do you think I'm out here, too?"

Vesta's father made a very good point. Regulus shrugged and replied, "You needed a smoke?" Granted, that was typically the excuse Regulus had made to get away from stressful situations to begin with, but that was not the case for everyone. "Or you got fed up with the conversation about football and quodpot?"

Mr. Dinoso rolled his eyes. "They're all philistines. The one true sport is obviously baseball," he commented in mock-seriousness. He grinned and asked, "I take it you don't care much for sports?"

Regulus shook his head. "No. I follow quidditch, but that's about it," he replied. After a moment's thought, he added, "Well, and Ted managed to get me interested in football—sorry, soccer—and cricket. I'll watch them if they're on the telly, but I don't really follow either."

"Ted?" Mr. Dinoso prompted.

"My cousin's husband," Regulus explained. He probably shouldn't be talking about any of this, but what harm was there in talking about the only people in his family who weren't madder than hatters? Who would connect the names Andy and Ted to Andromeda Black and her husband unless they already knew? Andy and Ted were common names, so it shouldn't matter if he said anything about them. "He's a solicitor—a lawyer for the defense, I think you say? In any case, I used to babysit their daughter every so often, and Ted was usually watching cricket or football while waiting for Andy to finish getting ready."

"Well, baseball's like cricket," Mr. Dinoso mentioned. "Games don't go on as long, and there's more strategy involved, but it's far more elegant than our football, where the action stops ever ten seconds, or quodpot, where the ball explodes."

Regulus chose not to comment on how wrong Vesta's father was about cricket and strategy, but he did agree with the assessment of quodpot. "I've never seen a game of baseball. Jack tried to drag me off to one this fall," he recalled. Jack had been in possession of a couple extra tickets for a game between a team named after colored socks of some sort (it might have been Boston's home team?) and a similarly cursed team named after bears.

Mr. Dinoso grinned and insisted, "You should go to at least one game. I love baseball for itself, obviously. I used to play. However, half the fun of attending a game is getting drunk and bullshitting with your friends."

Regulus smiled. "Jack said more or less the same thing," he admitted. He shook his head ruefully. "Jack, a friend of mine, keeps trying to drag me to all sorts of places he insists are part of the American experience. Half the time, I think he's actually just trying to drag a friend with him to dreadfully dull society events."

Mr. Dinoso snorted into his coffee. "Really? Give me an example," he said, amused.

Regulus shrugged and explained, "The baseball game he was right about, but the pleading tone he took about the Metropolitan opera sort of tipped me off he was trying to get someone to dull the pain. Well, and the fact that Kanan was standing a bit behind him practically trying to spell out in semaphore how bad an idea to accept the invitation would be."

"What opera was it?"

"La traviata," Regulus replied carelessly. "I'm not too fond of that one, so I declined. My answer would have been different if it was a different opera, but…"

"I take it your parents liked opera?"

"Dad does. Mum likes Gilbert and Sullivan and comedies, but La bohème bores her to tears, and of course my brother—" Regulus began to complain before cutting himself off abruptly. He probably should not have mentioned anything. Also, he really needed to start trying to refer to them in the past tense or stop talking about his family altogether.

"I'm partial to the comedies, too," Mr. Dinoso mentioned with a smile. "That said, Juno's more fond of ballet, and the girls would revolt if I ever suggested skipping going to the Nutcracker this year."

"My other cousin loves ballet. She and her husband are obsessed with it, Merlin only knows why," Regulus said, glad Vesta's father had decided to ignore his brief short-circuit. He did actually know why Cissy and Lucius loved ballet, but he liked to pretend he didn't so he did not have to think about it. Honestly, they were more likely to be seen at the ballet then at any of the Dark Lord's events, which Bellatrix found infinitely infuriating. Regulus had only just been glad that Narcissa had the sense to keep distance from Voldemort.

With a look that made Regulus think there was some sort of story behind the next words, Mr. Dinoso said measuredly, "Vesta mentioned you play an instrument. I can't remember which at the moment, but for the love of God, don't let Hera find out."

Regulus grinned viciously. "I doubt there's a danger there. I can play a bit of guitar, but somehow I don't think she'd like me playing anything by the Sex Pistols."

Mr. Dinoso sighed in relief and explained, "Oh, thank God. I thought Vesta meant you played the piano. Hera made her daughter's boyfriend play some Chopin etude for no goddamn reason. She hates the kid with a passion even Juno finds bizarre."

For a moment, Regulus let himself imagine the shitshow that would have been Sirius trying to remember how to play piano. "I don't know, I think that must have been hilarious," he admitted. "How badly did Sirius fuck it up? I mean, I assume he fucked it up. His and Potter's idea of musical prowess is competently knocking out the Imperial March on the kazoo. Well, that and being able to play a simple arrangement of the William Tell Overture on the piano." Dorcas had apparently decided to commit murder in their seventh year over that, which led to the formation of the kazoo orchestra. However, that was how Potter had finally managed to convince Lily to go on a date with him: if he stopped the kazoos, she would think about it. That said, by the end of the year, she was conducting the kazoo orchestra, much to the disappointment of the rest of the Gryffindors. Graduation had actually not been dull that year.

"Happy memory?" Mr. Dinoso prompted.

"Artemesia's graduation. The kazoos."

Mr. Dinoso snorted. "I'd heard about that." He shook his head. "Damn shame what happened, you know," he murmured. "Black seemed like a good kid. Hera's been crowing about how she was right, but I have the feeling Artemesia's going to tell her to go to hell sooner rather than later. She doesn't think he killed those people."

Regulus wasn't sure why he said it, but he declared with steel in his voice, "I don't believe it, either. When he mourns people, he shuts down. He shows up to the funeral with matching clothes, maybe—if someone made sure he did. Maybe he confronts the person who killed them, but let me tell you, if he couldn't kill Bellatrix Lestrange in cold blood, he sure as hell couldn't kill innocent people in the process of trying to kill Peter Pettigrew."

Oh, Jesus Christ, why did he say anything? This was not the way to let Vesta's family know he was not unhinged. First rule of social engagements: do not bring up politics or religion. At least Regulus had only fucked up with half of that. He would probably find a way to screw himself over with the latter before the day was out.

With a laugh, Mr. Dinoso replied, "Kid, I don't have an opinion on it, but for what it's worth, that's exactly what Artemesia's been saying. I take it he was your friend, too?" He grinned and explained, "Well, I have to assume so, given your immediate assumption that the kid would manage to completely antagonize Hera."

"He can't play piano for shit!" Regulus defended himself. "I've heard him try for longer than I care to admit! It's objectively painful!"

"Well, he played well enough that Hera kept trying to make him play more and more difficult pieces until she flipped her lid and stormed off in a huff," Mr. Dinoso responded, obviously amused by Regulus's opinion on the matter.

"Was William Tell involved?" Regulus asked with second-hand embarrassment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did not know why he bothered asking. He already knew the answer.

"The Lone Ranger theme? Yeah. Hera was very pissed off," Mr. Dinoso recalled, grinning. "She needs to find a way to remove the stick up her ass."

"I'm starting to understand why she hates him," Regulus admitted, staring at nothing in particular in the backyard. He involuntarily shivered and realized he had been out in the freezing cold talking with Mr. Dinoso for a long time. He really should have grabbed a jacket before trying to hide outside.

"Nah, Hera's problem has to do with some centuries-long vendetta that I doubt very many people remember, let alone care about," Mr. Dinoso corrected.

Regulus knew what Vesta's father was referring to. He was personally foggy on the details, but Narcissa knew the play-by-play breakdown of whatever had happened. She had always found feuds in their family's history hilarious, especially given that most started for eminently stupid reasons. If anyone in the family cared, however, it would have been Bellatrix.

He was about to reply, but before he could say a word, Vesta screeched, "WHAT?!"

Regulus turned back towards the house in confusion. Through the French doors, everyone inside seemed to be startled by Vesta's outburst, wherever she was. Mr. Dinoso was likewise staring, wondering what in the world was going on. Incandescent with rage, Vesta stormed into the living room, followed shortly by a superior Mrs. Vector. Mrs. Dinoso, who came in shortly thereafter, looked torn but also quietly furious. Regulus exchanged a glance with Mr. Dinoso, and they both went back inside to find out what exactly had happened.

* * *

 ** _Coming Up: Arguments_**

 _12 November 2015_


	5. Chapter 5

"An arranged marriage?!" Mr. Dinoso demanded, clearly attempting to look more shocked than angry. He was standing next to Vesta, who looked like she was about to murder her aunt. Vesta's older sister Ceres had apparently distracted all the children with the promise of cookies in the kitchen, so only the adults were currently in the room.

"That sounds fairly medieval," one of the other men commented. He was on the older side, so Regulus guessed this was one of Vesta's uncles.

"Mother and Father approved the match," Mrs. Vector replied to her brother, waving off the concern. "Really, Theseus, there is not much to talk about here. Yes, this is a political maneuver, but there is no negative to having another ally in the Senate."

"What's so important about this family they're talking about?" Regulus quietly asked the man he was standing next to. The last name sounded familiar for some reason, and he had also completely lost the thread of the conversation.

"They're the Kennedys," he replied at a similar volume, a little astounded that Regulus was even asking the question. However, the other man then shook his head and admitted guiltily, "Honestly, I'm just glad Dad didn't consider arranging some sort of engagement for me with the daughter. She's only fourteen, for God's sake." Realizing they did not know each other, the man introduced himself, "Hermes White, by the way."

Distracted, Regulus introduced himself. Realizing he had forgotten his manners, he belatedly added, "It's a pleasure."

Vesta's cousin made a noncommittal sound in response. They were both more interested in the transpiring argument than exchanging further pleasantries. Regulus realized he had missed something important during even that brief exchange, because Mrs. Dinoso looked angrier than Vesta did. "This isn't about the arranged marriage! You went behind our backs, Hera!" she growled. "Vesta's my daughter _and_ an adult. We should have been consulted before you went and made an executive decision about her future. What do you even know about this man?"

"He's the senator's nephew, a couple years older than Vesta," Mrs. Vector replied, apparently now attempting to be placating. "Hera, do not think I did not talk this over extensively with Barrington and Blythe. I was initially going to suggest Artemesia, but given her circumstances, I decided that they would have seen that as an insult."

Regulus was suddenly very glad that Artemesia did not appear to be present or in the room. That said, where was she? Vesta had mentioned that Artemesia was going to be around today. Regulus reflected that it was also lucky that Artemesia had not been dragged into this mess under different circumstances, even if Sirius's incoherent rage combined with Artemesia's indignant fury would have been a sight to behold.

Mrs. Vector continued, "Besides, they see it as a chance to tie themselves to—"

"What? The family you refuse to acknowledge? Yes, we have had so much contact with them since the reign of James the First!" Mrs. Dinoso sniped sarcastically.

"I was _not_ talking about _them_!" Mrs. Vector growled. "How dare you, Juno!"

"Oh, so this is just one of your stupid goddamn political moves to increase the family fortunes even more?" Mrs. Dinoso demanded. "What do the Kennedys get out of this? A connection to an ancient magical bloodline? We both know that's worth nothing!"

Another of Vesta's uncles stepped between the two and started to say, "Juno, Hera, why don't we calm down and talk about this sensibly—"

Both women rounded on him, with Mrs. Vector telling him to shut up and Mrs. Dinoso to shout, "No one cares what you think, Ares! Why didn't you stop Hera's stupid fucking plotting this time? Mom and Dad wouldn't have approved of this if _you_ didn't interfere, so what the hell did you tell them? What lies did she have you spouting this time? We sure as hell aren't running out of money; Dad's already friends with practically half the goddamn Senate for one reason or another, and I think we all know Mom's opinion on arranged marriages!"

While Regulus had not been aware of half of that, he knew Mrs. Dinoso had a point. It sounded like Vesta's grandfather has more or less the equivalent of the Malfoys' status, and although most purebloods liked to pretend they were richer than sin, not all family fortunes were as stable as they once had been. However, with political influence and money problems off the table, Regulus was as confused about the reasoning behind the marriage as practically everyone else present.

Ares glanced at Mrs. Vector, who looked like she was going to commit murder if he said a word. Despite that, the man patiently reminded his other sister, "You know why. Vic's respectable, Aph is Aph, Tony's… Well, you get my point. Mom and Dad let us get away with murder, and we've only alienated other older families over the years. We all knew that eventually, one of our children was going to have to take one for the team."

He grimaced and continued, sounding regretful, "The Kennedys have a daughter, a very sweet girl, but she's a decade younger than Herm. None of your grandchildren are close in age to either of the Kennedy boys. While Artemesia is, she was effectively engaged when negotiations started. Worse, the boy was from an old family _despite_ it being a love-match to someone Hera despised. Barrington's been harassing me for years about some sort of alliance. You _know_ this, Juno! We couldn't just say no to an offer when there were two kids of marrying age, not when Artemesia was shacking up with the heir to one of the oldest families in Europe. I tried to get Barrington to consider something with one of his younger sister's kids and either Athena or Diana; you know, have them get to know each other and decide which two to pair off later. Julian was sympathetic even though he finds the very concept abhorrent (and thank God for that!), but his last name isn't Kennedy." To Vesta, Ares entreated, "At least consider the suit. If your fiancé turns out to be a horrible person, I'm sure there can be a mutual agreement that it did not work, and you can go back to being single, but at the moment, we cannot afford to piss off all of high society."

"This is still bullshit, Ares," Mrs. Dinoso declared, although she did sound resigned to the compromise her brother had suggested. "I can't believe you asked Julian—! He hates Barrington, you know that, right?"

"Of course he does, but despite what Hera would like you to believe, I was desperate to get out of this," Ares replied, ignoring the look he received from his other sister as a result. "I'm sure Debbie thinks this fiasco is exactly that, but when I last spoke to her, she said she was fairly certain her nephew would make some sort of gaffe that would justify breaking the engagement."

"Deborah hates Barrington more than her brother-in-law does," Mrs. Vector pointed out stuffily. "She has spoken ill of Barrington's son on more than one occasion, but from what I've seen, the boy is perfectly well-behaved."

Given the sudden interruption of a second screech of "What?!" resounding throughout the house, Regulus was not surprised to see Artemesia rush into the room, looking to commit murder. He tried to blend into the background so that she would direct her ire at those currently more deserving. Regulus and Artemesia could have their knock-down, drag-out fight at a later time. "Mum, what in the fuck?!" she demanded at a volume Regulus was sure all the children could hear a couple rooms over. To Vesta, she apologized, "I'm so sorry, Vesta. I'm so sorry."

Vesta waved off her cousin's words. She looked more shell-shocked than angry now. Regulus hated to see her this upset, but what could he do then and there that wouldn't cause an even bigger scene? Ignoring how she would react if he tried, he could not exactly attempt to comfort her. Vesta's mother was already under the mistaken impression he and Vesta had some sort of understanding, and given Artemesia's mother's opinion of him was somehow already abysmal, any evidence that could suggest Vesta might run off with someone would only add fuel to the fire. Hell, he remembered when Andromeda had been kicked out of her parents' house. Thankfully, Regulus had not been witness to the worst of it; his father in his infinite wisdom had made a strategic exit with Regulus, Sirius, and Narcissa. At the time, his mum had established some petty, ongoing feud with Aunt Druella, so she and Uncle Alphard had later given Andy and Ted advice on what to do. Granted, their advice had further boiled down to a recommendation to elope, and Uncle Alphard had given Andy and Ted full use of his home on the Riviera for the honeymoon. Yes, Regulus was best serving the current situation by doing _nothing whatsoever_.

"You, young lady, have no room to talk," Mrs. Vector said stonily. She was clearly unhappy with her daughter's behavior, although Regulus thought Artemesia was well within her rights to flip a shit over barely dodging an arranged marriage. "You were practically engaged to a _Black_ and a murderer at that."

Regulus felt his hackles rise at the insult to his brother, but Artemesia thankfully beat him to the punch. "Really, Mum? You really believe Barty Crouch and his goddamn inquisition?" she demanded indignantly. "Sirius is a lot of things, but he isn't a murderer, I know that much." Artemesia took a moment to collect herself before continuing, "And don't pretend he has anything to do with this. You've been plotting with whatshisface for _years_ , which is why you were so pissed when you found out I wasn't dating that French jackass anymore. It's a bit harder to have me break off a relationship with the heir to one of the oldest magical families in Britain than some 'new-money French pureblood', as you so wonderfully called Henri."

Vesta's uncle Ares looked annoyed but unsurprised. "Really, Hera?" he demanded in annoyance. "You're the one that suggested it?"

She rolled her eyes and demanded in return, "So what if I was, Ares? Up until last Christmas, I was under the impression that Artemesia would indeed be available to be married off. Now that she's disgraced herself—"

"Just because she shacked up with some guy doesn't mean she's 'disgraced', Aunt Hera," Hermes interjected, sounding thoroughly bored. Next to him, Regulus attempted to fade into the wallpaper. He was likely to fail his objective, but by God, he was going to try.

"Unmarriageable, then," Mrs. Vector amended with a glare, thankfully ignoring Regulus. "God knows that if that stupid boy is released, Artemesia will run back to him."

"He's innocent!" Artemesia hissed. "Why can't you even entertain the notion that—"

Regulus stopped paying attention. He did not need to listen to a rehashing of every doubt and regret he had since Sirius had been thrown in Azkaban. Besides, he was more worried about Vesta, who had apparently also had enough and consequently left the room. Given that most everyone was more concerned with Artemesia and her mother's current quarrel, Regulus managed to slip past the others to go search out Vesta.

He found her crying on the stairs. After a moment's hesitation, he took a seat next to her. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard," he said lamely, trying to keep his hands still. There was no reason for him to be upset, but he couldn't stop wringing his hands. Then again, Regulus had seen enough of the effects of poorly considered arranged marriages while growing up and knew the current situation was definitely worth worrying over. "Is there anything I can do?"

Vesta stiffened, probably surprised that Regulus had been the one to chase after her. Still weeping, she replied, "No. Not unless you can convince my bitch aunt to fix things." With a sniff, she grimaced and added, "I'm sorry you're stuck here for this shitshow. Why can't Aunt Hera just have left everything well alone?"

Regulus stared down at the carpet and insisted, "There's nothing for you to apologize for. I'm sure things will work out for you, Vesta." Smiling sadly, he glanced at her and added, "It shouldn't be too hard to get this guy to break things off."

Vesta looked up at him. "You really think so?" she asked, sounding as if she was trying not to be too hopeful.

"Yeah," he replied. He would find a way. He would. She deserved to be happy. "I'll do everything I can to help, " he promised, feeling a strange sense of serenity. "It shouldn't be too hard to read up on the etiquette and find a loophole." Half-jokingly, he added, "Worst comes to worst, I'll break Sirius out of Azkaban, and he can duel your fiancé."

The absurd suggestion had its intended effect and caused Vesta to laugh despite herself. With a teary smile, she asked, "Really? You'd break him out of Azkaban for me?"

Regulus grinned and shrugged. "I should probably get on that, anyway," he admitted, not serious in the slightest. Mr. Vector would have kittens if Regulus showed any inclination towards leaving the country. Given that the last time Regulus had been in Great Britain, Bellatrix had unceremoniously dumped him—bleeding to death—on the CIA's doorstep, Regulus could not particularly blame the regional director for the presumed reaction. Needing to reassure her his offer was in fact genuine, he further added, "I will help however I can, Vesta."

She looked at him for a long moment. With a sigh, Vesta murmured, "Thank you. You really don't have to, you know. Mom's probably half-way to convincing Aunt Hera and Uncle Ares they have their heads up their asses, anyway."

"Well, just in case, then," he replied, feeling strangely disheartened. It was probably just that he wanted to be able to help her for once instead of the other way around. Changing the subject, Regulus asked, "Do you think the holiday is ruined? Or is the arguing normal?" The moment the words were out of his mouth, he knew he had misspoken.

Apparently forgiving him for the gaffe, Vesta frowned and said, "Well, the arguing isn't normal, really, but we were about due for _something_. Having Aunt Hera and Uncle Theseus in the same room is typically a recipe for disaster." Sighing again, she admitted, "We should get back before Aunt Hera decides we've run off together."

Regulus blushed at the thought and hated himself for it. He then hated himself even more for wishing it were the truth. "Artemesia is arguing with her, so I don't think she's noticed either of us are even gone," he replied, even though he wished they did not have to go back and deal with the rest of the argument so soon. "Mrs. Vector doesn't seem to like me for some reason."

Vesta snorted. "I can imagine," she muttered before sending an apologetic glance at Regulus. She explained needlessly, "Aunt Hera's not exactly found of your brother."

"I know," he murmured, feeling restless all of a sudden. Mrs. Vector had said as much earlier, that she did not trust him because he looked like Sirius. Everyone had always said he looked so much like Sirius (but far less handsome, less confident, less charismatic, less, less, less, _always_ less). Embarrassed of his behavior earlier, he admitted, "I overheard your Aunt say something to that effect before I tried to hide from everyone out back."

"Tell me you remembered to put on a coat?" she hoped in vain. The look on Vesta's face indicated that she already knew the answer, but she had needed to ask anyway. At Regulus's sheepish response to the contrary, Vesta shook her head and thought out-loud, "I don't know what I expected. Please don't do it again while it's this cold out? You could still get really sick from catching a simple cold, let alone a full-blown case of the flu."

The thought had admittedly not occurred to him, even though his bought of pneumonia earlier in the year really should have driven the point home. "Right. I'm sorry," he said in a daze.

"No, I don't mean—" Vesta started before cutting herself off. She squeezed his hand reassuringly and attempted again, "Regulus, I don't want you getting hurt. I know it's hard having everyone treat you like you're made out of glass, but your health _is_ still fairly delicate. It's nothing to be ashamed of, and—I just worry, all right?"

"I know. I'm sorry," he murmured, chastened. "It was stupid of me."

Vesta seemed a little frustrated that he kept blaming himself, but she also appeared to let it go for once. Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Vesta mentioned, "On the bright side, I may be able to get Aunt Hera and even Sia to leave you alone, so all this isn't a total loss. Well, and I can guilt-trip Hermes into not being a pain in the ass."

"I think Sia not yelling at me is a ship that sailed months ago," he replied, trying not to sound too morose.

"I would think that's self-evident," Artemesia said sarcastically from where she was leaning against the doorframe to the entrance hall. To Vesta, she commented, "And stop trying to cheer his ass up; it's futile. Besides, you're the one with a right to be upset, not dumbass here."

"Maybe I should—" Regulus began as he made to leave.

"Sit your ass down," Artemesia ordered. "Vesta, do you mind sorting everything out with the 'adults' while I talk to the idiot here? It won't be long. I promise."

Suspicious, Vesta figured, "This is so your mom doesn't—"

"Exactly," Artemesia replied, apparently now able to read minds.

"Wish me luck, then," Vesta said with a sigh, standing up.

Regulus did so as she left. When Artemesia then took Vesta's place on the steps, he decided that maybe he should have run while he had the chance. They sat in silence for a moment, given that there was no way in hell he was going to speak first. "You look like shit, Reggie," Artemesia observed, sounding vaguely guilty.

This was not how Regulus had imagined the encounter playing out. He had expected a fair bit more yelling and far less sympathy. "Haven't been doing so hot," he explained, feeling uncomfortable. There should have been yelling, not this sort of sad resignation.

Artemesia laughed sharply and demanded with a touch of anger, "Really? That's your response? You 'haven't been doing so hot'? You're normally ten and a half stone soaking wet, but you look like you've lost twenty pounds. Jesus Christ, no wonder Vesta's worried about your sorry ass. Goddamn it, have you been taking care of yourself at all?"

Regulus cringed and admitted, "I guess I'm a little underweight—"

"Are you fucking kidding me? 'A little underweight'?" she demanded, cutting him off. "I don't even know why I'm bothering, but honest to God, Regulus, you need to stop punishing yourself for things that are out of your control. I admit I don't know all that's going on, and I get that you feel guilty, but hurting yourself doesn't help anyone, least of all…" Artemesia stopped her tirade and sighed. After taking a moment to collect herself, she asked far more gently, "I'm really asking here, so don't—please don't make up some bullshit. _Are_ you all right? Or are we at situation normal and this is yet another instance of you putting up a brave front?"

Regulus knew her way of showing concern was a little rough around the edges, but he also knew her well enough to tell that she was earnestly asking. Refusing to meet her eyes, he braced himself for her inevitable response and quietly admitted, "No. I—I'm really not."

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you've not been since February?" she continued neutrally, as if the answer did not really matter. Of course, the answer did matter. The answer mattered a hell of a lot. Still, he appreciated her willingness to be as vague as humanly possible given the circumstances.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. If he started talking about any of what had happened, he would start breaking down. He was well aware that he could not afford to constantly be so stupidly emotional, but it had been almost a year and his mental state had barely improved, let alone gone back to normal. Given what had happened in the meantime, however, Regulus knew she deserved the truth or at least as much of it as he could give her.

Artemesia remained silent for a while. "He blames himself, you know," she murmured, finally bringing up the elephant in the room. "For whatever happened. We all tried to tell him it wasn't his fault. At least he and Dorcas went off the rails together." Artemesia grimaced and asked, "You heard about Fabian and Gideon?"

"Read the paper. Sounded like Doholov," Regulus replied, not bothering with complete sentences. He had half a mind to block out this conversation. He knew how badly he had fucked up and did not need to hear all the excruciating details. "Heard she got herself killed." It had been a bad day when he had found out. He had known Dorcas for as long as he could remember. The papers said Voldemort had killed her personally. She would have gone down swinging, a far better fate than if… Well, it did not bear thinking about.

"I don't mean to upset you," Artemesia said, sounding surprised. The response was apropos of nothing, wasn't it? Confused, Regulus glanced over at her. He had been calculatedly detached in his evasion, so why was she under the impression he was upset? He froze as she continued, horrified, "Jesus Christ, what did Bellatrix _do_ to you?"

"It's nothing," he insisted, cursing himself for losing control. How had he not noticed his hands were shaking? Goddamn it, did they really need to talk about this now? "It's fine, Sia, really," he lied as he tried not to think about—No. No, he was fine. "I'm fine."

"Maybe you should lie down," Artemesia suggested, her hand resting on his shoulder to comfort him. "You've gone pale all of a sudden."

Regulus shrugged off her touch and backed up into the wall. "I'm fine," he repeated far harsher than he had meant to. "I just—every so often shit just hits me for no goddamn reason," he tried to explain, well aware he sounded somewhat frantic. "It's getting better, but I can't always keep it under control." Yes, that was something of a lie, but he did not want to discuss it.

She blanched, likely making connections in her head that he would have preferred she did not. "Regulus, you have nothing to be ashamed of; post-trauma—"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" he shouted at her, immediately feeling guilty for raising his voice. Artemesia looked a little stunned at his reaction, and Regulus folded in on himself, quietly apologizing, "I'm sorry. I—I just—can we _please_ talk about something else?"

"Of course," Artemesia replied, sounding apologetic herself. She was sitting with her chin resting on one of her knees as she admitted, trying to smooth things over, "I'm glad you're all right, you know. I was psyching myself up to yell at you, but it really is just good to see you. I mean, I know you'd rather talk to Narcissa, but if you do ever need to talk, let me know, okay?"

Regulus tried to be strong, but he could not help but ask, "How is she? Cissy? I know Lucius is an ass, and she stayed out of everything as best she could, but…"

Artemesia snorted and replied with frustration, "Lucius is claiming innocence by reason of Imperius, and I doubt Narcissa'll catch any heat whatsoever." Speaking more on the topic of Narcissa alone, she continued in a sort of calm annoyance, "Narcissa's fine, otherwise. She's cut down on her time at society events because of her kid. I figure she'll be back to her old tricks in a year or two, though. As far as I've gathered, she and Andromeda are talking again, which I'm sure will please you. It weirded the shit out of Sirius, let me tell you, but honestly, I was none too surprised after Narcissa's falling out with Bellatrix."

Regulus furrowed his eyebrows. "Narcissa had a fight with Bellatrix?" he repeated in confusion. "What the hell did they argue about? Bella's leather dress robes?"

Artemesia giggled and replied, "Jesus H. Christ, I forgot how alike you and your brother are about this nonsense." Smiling, she explained, "Nah. Narcissa was pissed for months about what happened to you, dummy. Apparently that was the straw the broke the camel's back."

"That's why Cissy… But now it's two versus—Oh. No, the math makes sense," Regulus thought out-loud, well aware he was speaking nonsense.

"If she looks at herself as neutral, Bellatrix is out-numbered?" Artemesia suggested. Regulus nodded in the affirmative, which set Artemesia off laughing. "I should have expected Narcissa's mind would work that way. Always could see which way the wind was blowing."

"Cissy's fond of being 'true neutral' or whatever it was Kanan was saying the other day," Regulus agreed, although he wasn't able to find as much humor in the situation as Artemesia. "She's still set on being the first female Minister for Magic, and, yes, I know we've already had female ministers. She always ignores me when I bring that up." Honestly, the only reason she probably kept making that mistake was just to tease him. He smiled, thinking about one of the last times he had seen Narcissa. She had been complaining about how Draco was keeping her up at all hours of the night, although from the sound of it, she farmed out most of the work to Lucius, who had actually looked like a wreck. She had asked after Andy, too. Lucius had either pretended not to hear or had actually fallen asleep, but Narcissa _had_ asked. Regulus hadn't seen Andy that frequently, especially after he had taken the Mark, but he saw her more often that Narcissa did. Hesitantly, he asked, "What about Andromeda? Is she all right?"

"I think so," Artemesia replied uncertainly. "I haven't really seen her. I mean, your mum kind of descended upon the apartment with her and Narcissa after Sirius was arrested, but I was more concerned with the fact your mother had finally decided to acknowledge my existence."

Regulus considered pretending to recoil at the thought, but he was too tired to care about keeping up appearances. "Was Mum acting normal? Or was she being awful?" he asked nervously, trying not to hope that his mother wasn't taking things too hard. "I mean, I know she's awful a lot, and she treats Sirius like crap when she is, but it's not really her fault—" Regulus stopped himself before he said any more. Artemesia probably did not know nor care about the distinction anyway. Sirius always tended to say Mum was mad and leave it at that.

"That's what was creepy. Your mum was acting normal. Like, less nutty than my mum normal," Artemesia agreed, clearly disturbed by the concept. "She mostly just said something to the effect that your brother was an idiot and she was dreadfully sorry he was such before telling me that if necessary she could rustle up a marriage license."

Pushing aside his relief at the news his mum sounded all right, Regulus apologized sincerely, "I'm really sorry she implied Sirius knocked you up. She's not usually so blunt about these things, although that is mostly because we always remind her it's like Grandmother. But—Narcissa and Andy were there?" With an embarrassed groan, he realized, "They didn't say a damn thing in anyone's defense, did they?"

"They were trying to be menacing, I think," Artemesia said, looking slightly melancholy. "They thought I was going to react like everyone else did. Remus apparently had a bit of a yell at Andromeda when she'd gone to ask what had happened, which was probably why she was content to stonewall me, but he was a couple bottles of whiskey in at that point. Honestly, I think Remus is going the 'if I ignore it, it will go away' route, and I can't quite blame him. Still, your mum was really nice, and I was very confused by that." For a brief moment, Artemesia was silent. However, she asked, sounding like she was hoping he would not for one reason or another, "You aren't going to try to break your brother out, are you?"

"No," he said, knowing what he said to Vesta earlier had been the truth. He was not going to try, even if he was probably going to plan what he would need to do anyway. "Grandad or Uncle Cygnus may yet try to bribe the courts for appearance's sake, but I don't think Siri'd appreciate me getting a one-way ticket to Azkaban to make sure he could escape. The human guards would doubtlessly not find a fistfight between the two of us to be inconspicuous."

Artemesia nodded sagely and declared, "Good. I'd hate to have to beat the shit out of you for doing something so ass-backwards. Not to mention how much it would throw Vesta for a loop. That sort of bullshit I expect from you, but she's still harboring the illusion that you have a lick of sense. Still, it'd break her heart if you got yourself killed."

"You sure she wouldn't be glad to be rid of my sorry ass?" he suggested jokingly, knowing that Artemesia would only drop her fishing expedition if she were met with that sort of response. Poking fun at things himself was a sure-fire way to prevent others from making a big deal about it later. Well, at least usually.

Artemesia punched his arm playfully and chided him, "Don't say things like that! She really cares about you!" She pointed out seriously, "Come on, Vesta was concerned about whether or not you're upset about things despite the fact she should be more concerned with murdering my mother for sticking her in an arranged marriage."

"That doesn't make any sense, either, Sia," Regulus pointed out reasonably. "I'm a burden for her at the very least, but she still tries to cheer me up."

His brother's girlfriend raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Right," Artemesia said, thoroughly unimpressed. When she realized he was serious, she sighed and began to remind him uncannily of how his brother would have responded. Artemesia reiterated, "I highly doubt Vesta considers you a burden, and I'd have to be blind not to notice she thinks well of you, to put it mildly."

"Really?" he asked, well aware he sounded pathetically needy.

"Yes, fuckwit," she reassured him in exasperation. Hesitantly, she asked, "You think you can really figure out a way to get her out of this bullshit? Dad forewarned me about what happened a little before I apparated over, but I can only think of the more … extreme measures."

Regulus grimaced. "I might?" he admitted uncertainly. "I have to do some research into the etiquette, but I'm sure this mystery guy will do something that could be construed as an insult. Again, worst comes to worst…"

Artemesia snorted. "Yeah, okay, putting aside letting Sirius loose on Kennedy—I can't believe you need to do _research_ ," she said, unable to keep a straight face at the last word. "Jesus, Reg, you're the only person I know who would decide to hit the books instead of the jackass's face. I've met his ass before. I'm not too fond of him, but that may be due to Mum being a pain." Realizing something apparently surprising, she asked, "You have no idea who the Kennedys are, do you?" At Regulus's blank expression, she cackled and declared, "Please, for the love of God, ask that at dinner. I think everyone needs a laugh."

"I should really know what family this is, shouldn't I?" Regulus said, feeling like an idiot. "On a scale of one to ten, how basic is this information?"

Very seriously, Artemesia asked, "Do you know who the current president is?"

"Uh, that actor, Ronald Reagan?" Regulus guessed. He was fairly certain Jack complained endlessly about him and how the Republican Party was going to drive the country into the ground.

Artemesia nodded in approval before prompting, "And before that?"

Regulus honestly had no idea. American politics had never been relevant in the past, much less the non-magical sort. Guessing, he said, "Um, I think there was some guy named after a car? I remember Nixon; there's a stained glass window of him at the bar my friends and I go to. Before that is one of the acronym people, and then there was the guy everyone compared to King Arthur for some reason, and then there was General Eisenhower, Harry Truman, and Franklin Delano Roosevelt." At Artemesia's mystified expression, he flushed with embarrassment and explained in his defense, "Dad mentioned the last three whenever someone actually asked him his opinions on the Death Eaters and he started in on his rant about Nazis."

Artemesia was snapped out of her confused astonishment and reassured him, "I'm not surprised about that, honestly. Of course at least one person in your family has views like that. To be perfectly frank, I'm sort of stuck on the stained glass window of Nixon." Regulus must have appeared to be sufficiently uncomfortable at the thought of discussing politics, because Artemesia relented, having decided to take pity on him. She explained patiently, "Oh, fine. I'll tell you what's what. The Kennedys are one of the political powerhouse families in both the magical and non-magical legislature over here. Deborah Kennedy represents Massachusetts in the wizarding Senate and is very well-respected. One of her cousins is the senator for the same state, and another was president after Eisenhower."

None of that was even decent news. Grimacing, he mentioned, "It's going to be practically impossible for Vesta to break the engagement, then."

Artemesia smiled weakly and insisted, "I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out."

He knew she was trying to be reassuring, but he was having trouble believing her. "How do you feel about breaking Sirius out?" Regulus inquired darkly.

Sighing in exasperation, she clapped him on the back and admonished, "Don't be so fatalistic. You'll find something." Trying to cheer him up, she reminded him, "Besides, divorce exists for a reason, and Vesta'll throttle the bastard if he tries anything untoward."

Regulus nodded, knowing he should at least acknowledge her efforts, as futile as they were. Figuring it was as good a time as any, he finally asked, "You're really not pissed at me?"

Artemesia snorted and corrected, "Nah. I'm fucking furious, but honestly, it's just misdirected shit and intense frustration at you being unable to function like a normal human being as per usual." She grinned reassuringly and added, "However, no, I'm not really pissed at you. If you look like death warmed over now, I can't imagine you were exactly running on all cylinders even a couple months back. If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up in this mess, anyway? I mean, Sirius always thought Bellatrix's hit list was composed of Andromeda's family followed by Sirius, followed by Andromeda."

Regulus reflexively went to search his pockets for a cigarette. He had quit the habit, but he had conditioned himself well back when he had gone to talk to Andromeda whenever he was nervous about the problem of the day. Hell, she hated that he always tended to smoke in her kitchen, but she let him anyway. He rarely dropped by, and she probably thought that asking him to stop would cause him to stop talking to her. He should have—

"If you don't want to talk about it, it's all right. Really," Artemesia said, interrupting his reverie. She had a concerned look on her face again.

Wincing, he replied, "No, I was just thinking. Um, I, uh, was working for your dad. It was a project the last agent they were able to get in had been working on. I sort of stumbled upon it on my own a while after, but I turned coat as soon as I could." Making for damn sure he did not start wringing his hands again, he continued, "Bella just eventually noticed I hated Voldemort and everything he stood for. Took her long enough, really."

"You were working for my dad," Artemesia repeated, sounding annoyed. "As in he has known the whole damn time you're more or less in one piece."

"Voldemort's immortal, Sia. Your father has his reasons," Regulus mentioned, well aware Artemesia was unlikely to take even that well.

Artemesia pinched the bridge of her nose and said, "Of course. I don't even know why I brought this up. Well, I'm sure Sirius'll be glad to know he was right about what happened with you, you know, before he flips a shit over Voldemort being undead and all."

"It's not hard to do an exorcism," he replied reasonably. Regulus had considered the issues inherent with a fraction of Voldemort's soul floating around Great Britain. He would prefer to know where the rest of Voldemort's soul _was_ , but his most recent thoughts on the matter had gone down a path he was not sure he wanted to pursue, mostly because it would infuriate Sirius to no end. On the bright side, he did not have to air that particular concern to his brother for some time. Also, an exorcism was good enough to remove a foreign soul fragment from a living being. Usually.

"Right," Artemesia said skeptically.

Regulus considered trying to convince her, but he knew that was probably futile. For most witches and wizards, exorcisms tended to call to mind other, more unsavory practices. Fidgeting, he was about to make some inane comment before the two of them heard her father come in the front door. Regulus and Artemesia shared a quick glance before she rushed to forewarn her dad about the shitstorm currently in progress. Regulus followed her grudgingly, knowing that talking to Mr. Vector now would absolve him of making awkward small-talk later. Honestly, at this point, any way to prevent himself from being forced into conversation with Vesta's older relatives was worth pursuing.

"…I was just visiting an old friend in Bermuda, Sia. He's been a bit depressed lately, and I didn't know your mom was going to drop the bomb about all this nonsense—" Mr. Vector was saying to his daughter. The older man cut himself off and grimaced when he noticed Regulus had caught up with them. After a moment, Mr. Vector mentioned, "You look well, Leander."

That was a bald-faced lie if he had ever heard one, but Regulus appreciated the effort. "Thank you, sir," he murmured as his back started to tense up again. Well aware he was starting to fidget again, he reflected that while there was no reason to feel nervous around Mr. Vector, this exchange preceded being stuck in a room again with the rest of Vesta's family.

Regulus flinched as Mr. Vector clapped a hand on his shoulder and said reassuringly, "Kid, don't be so down on yourself. I meant it. You look a helluva lot better. Besides, you're not gonna catch hell from anyone due to all of Hera's crazy bullshit."

Artemesia raised an eyebrow and stared at her father skeptically. With a defeated sigh, she shook her head and inquired, "Right, Dad. What exactly's _your_ plan on catching hell from Mum or Aunt Juno? Because you damn well know you're going to have to take a side."

"I'm working on something, Sia," Mr. Vector said in his defense, finally distracted from watching Regulus in concern. He continued, speaking directly to his daughter, "Your mom's been trying to figure out some way for her family and the Kennedys to come to some sort of understanding over trying to get the laws on equal rights for non-humans through Congress. Debbie's always been sympathetic, and she is the one who would be voting on it, but God knows some of the provisions are never going to fly with the more conservative constituencies."

"She represents _Massachusetts_! Who in the hell is the senator worried about pissing off?" Artemesia demanded with a grand gesture to emphasize how apparently ridiculous it was that Massachusetts would be against whatever it was she and Mr. Vector were talking about.

"Racism against non-magical people and non-human individuals isn't localized to just Europe," Mr. Vector pointed out. Regulus considered arguing with that, but then again, his social circle no longer included a terrorist organization. He was admittedly somewhat biased.

Undeterred, Artemesia argued, "Dad, there are easier ways to get a political allegiance that than to marry someone off! It's the twentieth century, not the twelfth!"

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Sia. As I said, I'm working on something," Mr. Vector replied in an attempt to placate his daughter. "You've met Debbie's nephew, so you know that there's a snowball's chance in hell he won't fuck something up. It would have been easier to get you out of an engagement for that exact reason, but worst comes to worst, we can always—"

"Break Sirius out of Azkaban?" Regulus interrupted dully, already tired of considering the option. It was not like that had ever been a real possibility.

Mr. Vector furrowed his eyebrows and asked Artemesia in concern, "Were the two of you honestly considering that?"

"No, alas," she replied flatly before Regulus could get a word in. "He's not even particularly enthusiastic about breaking Sirius out even on principle."

"That's not true," Regulus interrupted, frustrated and not a little hurt that she was saying that when she had done her damndest to convince him _not_ to do so.

"Oh, come on. I didn't even have to threaten to stun you once," Artemesia pointed out, sounding equally annoyed. "I'm honestly surprised you haven't already tried to make a run for it to break him out."

"And what would I do, Sia? Huh? Oh, sure, I'll get myself thrown in prison, and then what? What chance do I have of being able to do anything?!" Regulus demanded. Why in the hell was she now trying to convince him to do this? She had been arguing against it earlier! He had agreed with her, for Christ's sake! "What would it fucking prove?"

Ignoring him, Artemesia said accusingly to her father, "He's been like this the whole day, and I'm willing to bet it's nothing new."

Regulus realized what she was getting at. "There's nothing wrong with me!" he protested. "I just didn't think it was a good idea, all right?"

"Artemesia, leave him alone. He has enough to deal with as it is," Mr. Vector said, sounding tired. "Kid, why don't you go find out what's going on with everyone else?"

Glad to run away from Artemesia for the moment, Regulus replied, "Yessir," before going to do just that. Mr. Vector probably just wanted to say something to Artemesia in private, but Regulus was glad to be dismissed regardless. Given the loud discussion that appeared to be ongoing in the living room, Regulus decided to scout out the kitchen. Even if no one was there, it wouldn't be a complete loss, given that he could filch some food.

One of Vesta's older sisters was in the kitchen; otherwise, it was deserted. There appeared to be far less food around as well. The older woman raised an eyebrow and joked, "I take it you and Artemesia didn't hear the 'all-clear'?"

"Everything's been sorted out?" Regulus asked in confusion. Which sister was this, anyway? One of them was a lawyer and the other was a psychologist, but Regulus still had trouble keeping the names straight. "I thought…" Well, what he thought didn't really matter.

Vesta's sister shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "Aunt Hera's been overdue for making asinine decisions that affect the whole family. Usually it gets sorted out rather quickly. Mom and Dad are still pissed off, and so's Vesta, obviously, but it's just at Aunt Hera now. Uncle Ares always ends up going along with Aunt Hera's stupid schemes until someone points out he's being an idiot, so there's that, too." A little puzzled, she asked, "Where's Artemesia? I thought the two of you were talking?"

Regulus tensed, feeling unnecessarily nervous, but he managed to shake himself out of it quickly enough and replied, "She's talking to Mr. Vector. He just got in."

"Well, thank God for that," Vesta's sister said in relief. She smiled at Regulus and explained, "Artemesia's been crankier than usual lately. Understandably, of course, but she can get on your nerves if you're stuck talking to her for too long." After a brief pause, she realized, "Oh, shoot, you went to school with Artemesia, didn't you? Well, at least that's what Demi said, but she can be completely full of shit."

This was Ceres, then. Regulus rubbed his left shoulder, feeling strangely distracted, as he answered, "Yeah, Sia and I knew each other. We had some friends in common." Managing to focus on the reason he had actually wandered into the kitchen, he asked, "Has everyone sat down to dinner, then?"

Ceres grinned. "Pretty much. The kids are currently being loud and unruly in the living room, but that's because making them have a sit-down dinner with china is a bit over the top, you know?" she replied with a wink. "I've got the first round of kid duty. You know, making sure they don't cover the walls in cranberry sauce and all that."

Regulus smiled sadly, trying not to think about holiday dinners with the fine silverware and bone china and tense discussion of backwards politics. Realizing he should respond, he mentioned, "I have a niece—well, she's my cousin's kid—she'd probably think a food fight is a brilliant idea. Granted, had her mum ever had the family over for holidays, she would definitely sit my brother and I at the kids' table."

"It sounds like you miss them."

"Every day," he murmured, thinking of Sirius trying to drink himself to death, of his parents having another long set of screaming matches because of what had happened. Maybe Mum and Dad were all right, though. Maybe Grandmother had finally talked some sense into Mum, had her visit the doctor and go on a vacation.

After a moment's deliberation, Ceres suggested, "Say, could you do me a favor? Dinner's going to be crazy, and God only knows the only reason Mom hasn't murdered Aunt Hera with a oyster fork is that Uncle Theseus is reminding them of all his recent screw-ups. I have to suffer through this, as is my duty as a member of the family, but you're not permanently stuck with us yet. You mind watching the kids? If we start switching people out of the room, the delicate balance of not committing parricide is likely to shift."

She definitely meant that jokingly, but Regulus immediately thought of the time Sirius and Bellatrix had almost killed each other. Trying to cover what had likely been an obvious reaction to the memory, he attempted to grin and said earnestly, "I'd like that."

Making sure the gaggle of children did not cause undue havoc was far less stressful than Regulus thought it would be. Vesta's younger sisters were still asking questions of him that verged on being a bit too personal, although he did give at least some sort of answer to them. Saying that it was complicated seemed to be good enough when Diana had asked why he wasn't with his family, but the repeat interrogation on how he knew Vesta demanded straight answers.

The other kids were Vesta's nieces and nephews, all of whom were fairly young. Ceres had said that Regulus's main objectives were just to make sure the children ate dinner and otherwise watched the movie currently playing. The television managed to hold the children's attention until Ceres' husband came in and declared it time for the younger kids to go to bed. Freed from the responsibility of watching over all but two of his charges, Regulus figured it would be okay if he snuck himself some wine after cleaning up the dishes. When he returned to the living room, Athena and Diana had put on episodes of that space show Sirius and Potter had been obsessed with after the summer Sirius had left. Clearly the universe was giving Regulus the okay to drink himself stupid, unless it was Potter encouraging debauchery from the great beyond, in which case Regulus would have to limit himself to demolishing only half the bottle of wine.

Near the beginning of the third episode that the girls were watching, Ceres came back into the room. With an amused look on her face, she commented, "I take it the demon twins are in full control of the VCR?" At Regulus's shrug, she added, "You do realize that's the crap wine Aunt Hera brought with her, don't you?"

Honestly, Regulus found the information fitting, but he replied, "I figured it matched the solemnity of the situation. Also, means I won't drink too much of it, either." Given that he was already a couple glasses in, he added, "Me 'n' Si—my brother, neither of us are real good at moderation, you know? He's wa-a-ay worse than I am, but I can't hold my liquor anywhere _near_ as well as him, so three quarters of a bottle's all I'm gonna drink."

Ceres snorted in amusement. "Well, that's Thanksgiving for you. I'm just glad it's not Russ drinking the house dry this year. The last thing we need is another go-around of drunken exploding football," she mentioned, her arms folded over her chest. She smiled fondly as she watched her sisters intently watch the television. Regulus finished off another glass of wine before Ceres mentioned off-handedly, "Vesta's gone up to bed, you know. Demeter and I tried to cheer her up earlier, but that was a titanic disaster. You talking to her seemed to do the most good, honestly. You know, while Artemesia and Aunt Hera were fighting?"

Regulus stiffened as his mind started racing through worst-case scenarios regarding Mrs. Vector realizing exactly what was going on with him, even though he knew for a goddamn fact that there was no way she could know the truth about him. Hell, she probably had not even taken note of his quiet departure to make sure Vesta had been all right. "Right," he finally managed.

"Athena and Diana can look after themselves. Besides, I think they're too engrossed in the space odyssey to cause trouble," Ceres added with a gesture at the television.

"Hm," Regulus said in reply, having lost the previous track of the conversation. Ceres was staring at him meaningfully, but it took a moment for Regulus to remember why he was deserving of a very good replica of Narcissa's patented Jesus-Christ-you-are-dumb look. Flushing with embarrassment, he finally caught on to what Vesta's sister was telling him. "I'll go check on her," he promised, standing up a little unsteadily.

"You might want to take the stairs at a slow pace, there, cowboy," Ceres suggested, obviously trying to hold in a giggle at how tipsy he was off only most of a bottle of wine. As he was trying to regain his balance, she took the glass away from him. He had left the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on. Go to bed."

" 'Kay," Regulus said as he swayed on his feet.

"Thanks for looking after the kids earlier, by the way," Ceres mentioned as she guided him to the hallway with the stairs in it. "Uncle Theseus usually starts hitting the sauce far earlier than you did. He's great with kids, but sometimes it's nice to have someone who's a bit more responsible, you know?"

Regulus nodded and agreed gravely, "Yup. Uncle Al was always fun, but s'mtimes we needed Andy to put 'er foot down. Mum always got shitfaced, too, but I can't blame her."

"Come on, up the stairs," Vesta's sister reminded him. Somehow they were already half-way up. Regulus didn't even remember beginning the climb. "Families are like that, though," she commented. "Like Tolstoy said about everyone being unhappy in their own way and all that."

" 'Spose so. My family's awful about things, with the crazy and the murder and the rampant alcoholism," Regulus said. "Though we've gone a couple decades without the murder bit, really. Well, mostly."

Ceres chuckled, probably thinking Regulus was exaggerating or joking or both. Finally in a place she could leave him to his own devices, she wished him good night and left him in front of Vesta's room. Hoping he made the right decision in not knocking, Regulus stumbled into the room, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible. He needn't have bothered, because Vesta was still awake.

With a sigh, she sat up from her reclining position on the bed and asked patiently, "How much did you have?" At Regulus's approximation of "most of the wine", Vesta sighed again and continued, "Do you think you're going to barf?"

"Nope," he replied, shaking his head. Oh, maybe that had been a poor plan…

"Good," Vesta declared as she shoved a glass of water at him to drink. "You can take the bed tonight. I'm more sober and am thus better equipped to deal with the squeaky cot."

After downing the water in one go, Regulus insisted, "It's fine. I don't want to be a pain."

"Regulus, you're shitfaced," Vesta reminded him. "I know how you get when you've had too much to drink. Granted, I should thank—who brought you up?" At Regulus's reply, Vesta continued, "Well, I should thank Ceres, then, for cutting you off this early."

" 'm not that drunk," Regulus insisted as he almost fell over trying to take off one of his socks. Vesta managed to catch him before he slammed face-first into the floor, though. "And I'm not gonna steal your bed. It's not polite. It's your bed, but I can sleep on the floor due to the unholy racket the cot makes."

"That's not—that's not why I was offering," Vesta said in exasperation.

Very seriously, Regulus asked, " _Are_ you okay? You still seem sad. Your sister said you were still sad." The fact that he was at this point half-dressed and swaying on his feet quite badly probably took away from how serious he was, but that was quite all right. This was important.

Vesta smiled the sad smile, which told Regulus she really needed a hug, and said, "I'm fine, Regulus, really. Go to sleep." Had she had been crying before he stumbled in drunk?

For one mad, brief moment, Regulus considered all his options, but common sense won out, and he replied, "I'm being serious, Vesta. I'm blitzed, not blind. I don't like it when you fuss over me so you can pretend everything's all right with you despite how everything always is falling apart. I mean, usually I'm the mess, but that's not the point. My point is that it's a coping mechanism, like my drinking and the cigarettes and—and—" Regulus grimaced and amended, "I mean, can't you just tell me what to do to make you feel better? Please? Please let me help?"

Vesta stared at him for a long moment. They were practically touching already, so he wasn't really startled when she snaked her arms around his neck and held him close. She was clinging to him tightly, her breath tickling the base of his throat. Dear God, he was glad he was inebriated. He could just blame his current complexion on the alcohol.

He began, "Vesta—" but was cut off by her sudden decision to kiss him. He stood there in absolute shock, thinking this was not right. She just needed someone to be there for her. He was there. He should have said that she was going to regret this (he was going to regret this so damn much), but he couldn't bring himself to do so. So, he kissed her back. (This was probably going to be the only chance he ever had to…)

She dragged them in the direction of her bed as one of her hands wandered down his chest. (No, his first instinct had been right: they couldn't do this. Both of them would regret it.) She started to unbutton his shirt and nipped at his throat, earning her a genuinely pathetic sound from him, which only served to encourage her to trace her way along his clavicle with her lips.

No, he could not do this. Yes, he wanted this. Oh, God, did he want it. He wanted it more than anything, but the only reason she was making a move on him now was that he was conveniently there, and that thought hurt so damn much. He gently pushed her away. "Vesta, please stop. I can't," he said, hating himself. "I just… I _can't_."

She immediately let go of him as if he were on fire. "Oh, God, Regulus, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she practically babbled, now hesitant to even touch him. Regulus paled as he realized what she was probably thinking and hugged his arms to his chest, trying to stave off the shiver that went down his spine. Vesta reached for his shoulder but stopped short of actually touching him. Letting her arm drop, she insisted, sounding on the verge of tears, "I didn't mean to—"

"It's not that," he interjected quietly, tamping down the rising panic from—He was fine. He was fine. He was fine. Collecting himself as much as he could, he reassured her, "It… it's not that." He ran his fingers through his hair, managing to ignore what he refused to think about.

"Still, I shouldn't have just—Well, I shouldn't have," she continued, generally doing her best to keep from looking at him. She sat down on the edge of her bed and wrapped herself in one of the blankets on it.

"It's fine. Really," he replied distractedly. His chest was hurting like crazy all of a sudden. He needed to get some sleep. Things would sort themselves out in the morning. They had to. He couldn't stop fucking everything up—Oh, God, she would forgive him, wouldn't she? Taking a deep breath, he tried to sort out what he needed to say and again reassured her, "Vesta, I'm serious. It's— _I'm_ fine. It's just…" Sitting on the bed next to where she had decided to cocoon herself in blankets, he fidgeted with his shirt cuff before trying to explain, "We both know you're just freaking out about what your aunt said. I don't—I don't blame you for—for—You know what I'm trying to say, right?"

"I'm sorry," Vesta murmured from inside her blanket cocoon. "I don't know what I was thinking. Shit, you're drunk off your ass." Regulus could practically hear the unspoken objections regarding his age and general ill health, not to mention that the only reason she had made a move was that he had been convenient.

Trying to keep his voice steady, he repeated, "No, I shouldn't've kissed you. I mean, okay, I'm drunk, but I'm not so drunk that I didn't realize you're upset about the arranged marriage. Shit, I downed a bottle of wine for the usual reasons. It's not like either of us are in a place to make good life choices right now." Feeling stupid, he smiled sadly and added, "Probably best to just pretend it didn't happen, you know?"

"Regulus, don't be so hard on yourself. Just because I've got problems doesn't mean yours are invalid," Vesta mentioned, glancing at him. "I'm sorry I left you alone with Artemesia. I should have realized she'd upset you."

"She didn't mean to," he murmured, staring at his hands. He had almost forgotten how ugly the scar from that compound fracture in his right wrist was. (Bella hadn't wanted to risk Regulus slipping his bonds.) He had to force himself to unfreeze and look at something else. Vesta was sitting up and staring at him in concern. "It's fine," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with the offending hand. Out of sight, out of mind, right? "Just an errant thought."

"She freaked out, didn't she?" Vesta concluded as she scooted to sit next to him, intent on remaining a human burrito. "What happened?"

"Sia thinks there's something wrong with me because I agreed that running off to rescue Sirius was a bad idea," Regulus admitted. With a pained smile, he continued, "Can't say I blame her. I probably would have needed to be stunned at least once before I'd listen if everything had happened last year. She was right about that."

Vesta remained silent. Leaning against him, she disagreed, "I suppose. You've always struck me as someone who thinks before they act. I mean, yes, someone would have had to stun you repeatedly, but you'd've calmed down pretty quickly after that."

With a weak laugh, he replied, "If Sirius had been sent to prison a year ago under similar circumstances, then I'd have been talking Potter out of committing murder. No time to go off and undertake some harebrained scheme out of the Avengers there. That, and Lily would have killed us for even considering doing anything so stupid as to organize a prison break, no matter how much Lupin would be able to spin it." Starting to sober up in earnest, Regulus realized it was fairly chilly in the room and envied the burrito.

"I don't want to marry some stranger," Vesta finally admitted as Regulus tried to pretend he wasn't freezing. "I know it's stupid, but I always thought I'd end up with my own knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet, a grand romance, _something_. I just can't believe my aunt didn't even think to ask me first or at least let me have some sort of say."

"It's a dick move," he agreed, deciding to content himself with what little warmth resulted from Vesta leaning against him.

Unexpectedly, she asked, "Did you ever expect that you'd be married off like this?"

He was fairly certain he had said words to the contrary earlier, but he replied honestly, "Yeah. Sirius—Sirius could do whatever the fuck he wanted, but in the end, I was just the spare. Mum and Dad wouldn't have forced me to do anything like that, but the rest of the family could have applied enough pressure." Grimacing, Regulus mentioned, "From what Mr. Vector was saying, it sounds like your family can't just piss off your fiancé's family out of hand."

"No eloping, then?" she asked, a heart-broken look on her face. Regulus had to forcibly remind himself why kissing her had been a bad idea.

"Probably not," he admitted. "Unless you have another upper-class twit waiting in the wings, it's unlikely you'd be able to pull it off without gravely insulting the family."

"Well, fuck," Vesta concluded. She finally noticed Regulus was trying to hide the fact he was shivering pretty badly and said in exasperation, "For the love of God, Regulus, why didn't you say you were cold? Get into bed, would you?" For emphasis, she grabbed his hand and declared, "Your hands are like ice!"

"I thought we agreed—"

Flushing with embarrassment, Vesta cut him off, "Not like _that_. I just don't want to be alone. I know I've no right to ask this of you, but please just hold me?"

Regulus rationalized that he was only human and replied, "Of course." While she de-burrito'd, Regulus changed out his button-down for a ratty old t-shirt before climbing into bed next to her and doing as she asked. They talked a little, but mostly he just held her as she cried until they both fell asleep. (Vesta was right about the cot being supremely uncomfortable, but all Regulus had really noticed was how he finally felt warm again.)

* * *

 ** _Coming Up: Oversharing._**

 _19 December 2015_


	6. Chapter 6

Several days had passed since Thanksgiving, and Regulus was glad to be back at university. While Vesta had been understandably upset since then, she had begun to cope to a degree. That she had not even tried to touch him since that night was not even the least bit surprising. He had tried to tell her multiple times that he had just not wanted to take advantage, but she (rightfully) did not believe him. He was lying, that was true, but her interpretation of the situation was still incorrect. Not wanting to argue with her, the two of them had more or less been walking on eggshells around each other for the past couple days. With a lack of people to talk to, Regulus had forced himself to admit why he was so upset about what had happened.

Yes, of course, he was attracted to Vesta: she was a beautiful woman, at least by his reckoning. She was very kind to him, even if she was as friendly as she was to him to most of her friends, but that's why he realized what he felt for her wasn't just—wasn't just lust. If it had been, he probably would have been able to just continue on as things had been. Hell, if it had just been lust, he probably would have slept with her instead of refusing her. For that reason, he found himself at the usual bar with Jack and the others. After shakily sighing, Regulus ran his hand through his hair and admitted, "I think I'm in love with her, Jack. I don't know what to do."

"Crying into your beer isn't going to solve anything, Lee," Jack pointed out. Regulus had already pounded back a drink or two and starting complaining about life in general, but Jack had eventually realized that what Regulus wasn't talking about was what was actually worrying him. Grinning wryly, Jack laughed and requested, "Now start from the beginning and use your words. What brought this on?"

Glad the others had gone off to play pool, Regulus pulled himself together and began hesitantly, "Well, you know how I went to her parents' house for Thanksgiving? Turns out that her mum is trying to set me up with Vesta, which is not the response I expected. However, Vesta's aunt had her engaged to some jackass, so I sat at the kids table for the rest of the day."

Jack covered his eyes with his hand and stated, expecting the worst, "You got shitfaced in front of small children, didn't you?"

Regulus winced and admitted, "Well, I did get drunk eventually, but that wasn't until after the little kids went to bed. I also had a long talk with my brother's girlfriend about how I completely fucked up her life. That's actually what set off the drinking."

Jack shook his head. "Jesus, Lee, does anything ever go right for you? I mean, I get it, you like being miserable, but _damn_ ," he joked. More seriously, he said, "Look, I don't know what to say. I mean, A) fuck your brother's girlfriend and the horse she rode in on, and B) I'm really sorry to hear about your roommate."

Regulus took a drink from his pint and corrected, "Sia's got a right to be pissed. I don't blame her. I fucked up, and my brother's paying for it." At Jack's confused expression, Regulus braced himself before starting, "I know I told all of you there was a car crash. I—I lied." Staring down at the table, he quickly added, "I've been meaning to tell all of you, but it's just been—"

"Wait, what?" Jack demanded. Regulus knew his friend was about to blow a gasket, and his response caught in his throat. He knew that he had to say something, but he just felt stuck, almost trapped, because if he never said something, then he would never have to hear the response. Giving up entirely, Regulus tilted his head down and shut his eyes, bracing for the worst. Jack surprised him by continuing in a stunned tone, "Holy shit, you _were_ in the war."

Regulus nodded mutely, relieved to avoid a huge argument but embarrassed he had reacted the way he had. Jack mentioned, "I mean, we all sort of figured something went down, but I thought…" He trailed off, so Regulus did not get to hear what his friend thought about that. Collecting himself, Jack returned to the important details and asked, "So your brother's alive?"

"My parents are, too," Regulus answered, still staring at the table. Evenly, he explained, "I fucked up really badly and pissed off the wrong people, so I—I had to leave without telling anyone. My brother, he—he _really_ didn't react well. A while ago, he sort of lost it and got himself in a pretty big bind. Thus, Sia's got every right to wanna kill me."

"They don't know you're alive," Jack realized. He stared at Regulus for a hard moment before asking levelly, "Who the hell did you piss off? I mean, if you don't mind me asking?"

Regulus snorted and quipped flippantly, "The list of who I didn't piss off is shorter." Jack looked disturbed by the sarcasm. Regulus winced and backtracked, explaining as evenly as he could, "The current director of the DMLE hates my guts, but let's just say there's a pretty high-ranking Death Eater who would love to hear I was still alive so she could kill me again."

Jack stared at him in horror. Regulus could almost see Jack making the mental connections as he visibly paled. Hopefully, they would be the least damaging revelations to their friendship, but Regulus doubted it, knowing his luck. Seeking confirmation, Jack asked, "Wait a hot minute, Lee. Are you telling me _Bellatrix Lestrange_ did all that to you?"

Regulus froze. Yes, he reflected, he should not have mentioned that it was a woman who had been after him. Hoping his shaking was not too evident, he pulled on his jacket (which was more to Sirius's tastes more than his) to ward off the cold. Trying to ignore the fact his entire back had just seized up, Regulus managed, "Y-yeah. I—" He could almost feel Bellatrix's fingers ghosting across his throat again. He shut his eyes and tried to will the feeling away, but it wasn't leaving. Right after that, she'd—

Jack's hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present. "Lee? Lee, it's all right; you're all right," he said, sounding pretty damn worried. As the feeling went away, Regulus realized Jack was more or less kneeling next to him. When had he moved from the other side of the table? "There's an ocean between us and her. That loony toon is locked away in Azkaban."

"With my brother." The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he'd said something. The blood drained from his face, and his back started to cramp painfully again. Goddamn it, was he crying, too? What in the hell was wrong with him? To hell with it. It's not like Jack could judge him for much more than he already was. Saying it out-loud to someone other than Vesta, other than Artemesia, that made it real, but… Taking a shaky breath, Regulus managed to admit, "My—my brother's in Azkaban. That's why I've been such a wreck, because it's my fault. The whole thing's my fault." He laughed bitterly and was unable to keep the quaver from his voice as he said, "I'm such a fucking _idiot_. Everyone says so, you know?"

Since Jack seemed content to listen, Regulus continued, trying not to sound quite so unhinged, "I made some bad decisions, fell in with the wrong people. My brother never approved, and we ended up having a very public falling-out. He didn't talk to me for a month, although he did write all sorts of angry letters. Eventually, he finally just asked me what the fuck had happened." Why was he even talking about this? His and Sirius's failure to have any sort of normal sibling relationship wasn't exactly germane, was it? Jack had the look on his face Regulus always associated with watching a train wreck, but Regulus had lost all the energy to feel self-conscious about it. Holding on to his pint so tightly the joints in his hands looked bloodless, he admitted carefully, "My brother worried about me endlessly, given I had managed to join a terrorist organization on accident. I fucked up a lot, and once I ended up shooting up enough morphine to down a horse. It's one of the few things that dulls the Cruciatus, did you know that?" Without really thinking, he added a little hysterically, "You know, Bella usually volunteered to 'discipline' me. I wouldn't be surprised if she gets off on it." Regulus stopped himself from saying any more. Jack didn't need to deal with him going catatonic.

"Lee, I don't think you should blame yourself for what happened," Jack commented neutrally. Regulus figured Jack was saying that only because he didn't know the rest of it. Still, Regulus was fairly surprised when Jack begun to ask, "How frequently did—"

"Look," Regulus interjected as calmly as he could. It was easier to simply show Jack than to explain, so he held his hand in front of him and stopped trying to hold it steady. He had to admit he didn't always have the tremor, but when he did, he tried to pass it off as too much caffeine or not enough sleep. He let his arm drop back to the table and clarified if only to try and stop Jack from looking so disturbed, "There's only some permanent spell damage, but it's just because she used pain curses on me like a spray bottle on an unruly cat. Repeated brief exposure doesn't cause many severe long-term symptoms." Regulus knew he sounded overly clinical, but that was for his own benefit. Trying not to think about what had happened to Frank and Alice, he kept his voice level as he added, "When Bella found out how much I was self-medicating, she flipped a shit. It was almost as bad as how my brother reacted. Only goddamn time she's ever seemed to give a shit since we were kids, and I still had to stitch myself up because of it."

Jack was looking horrified again as he said, "You've known her since…"

Regulus considered telling the truth before common sense won out. He chose to reply darkly, "It doesn't matter. Besides, Bella was probably more concerned with my fucking up something important for the Dark Lord than my well-being."

Jack frowned before mentioning carefully, "You know you don't have to tell me this, right? If you don't want to?" Regulus realized that maybe he shouldn't have said all that he had, but before he could get a word in edgewise, Jack explained, "Lee, I just mean you just seem a little, I don't know—weirdly apathetic, maybe?—when you started talking about, again, _Bellatrix Lestrange_ casting the _Cruciatus_ on you on a _regular basis_." Jack seemed like he was trying not to show how much that simple concept disturbed him.

"It's probably what Sia was trying to get at when she was yelling at me," Regulus reflected, considering draining what was left of his beer. "She kept staring at me like I'd suddenly sprouted wings or something. I am sorry if I said too much, by the way. I'm a bit shit at figuring out what's over-sharing." Sirius always said he talked too much, although he was one to talk. Sirius never shut up unless it was about something important. Regulus tried to keep his expression neutral. This was not the time to think about Sirius's fuck-ups.

"Jesus Christ," Jack muttered, shaking his head. "I don't understand why you didn't just say this from the beginning. I mean, you didn't have to necessarily say you pissed off one of Voldemort's lieutenants, but you could've just half-assed some bullshit there. I mean, shit, Lee, you got hurt in the war; that's all anyone would really need to know."

Regulus looked away, feeling deeply uncomfortable. He hesitated before admitting, "At some point, Vesta had to explain what was wrong with me to someone, and she panicked. I just went along with what she came up with." Grimacing, Regulus continued, "The car crash explains why I can't contact my family, but admitting I was in the war just opens up a Pandora's box worth of questions. I don't like talking about it."

"You're talking to me about it now," Jack pointed out, probably trying to make the point that Regulus was overreacting.

"Jack, I trust you. I wouldn't have told you what I have if I didn't," Regulus said absently, staring at his beer as he tilted the glass back and forth. "However, I can't tell you everything, and honestly, even if I could, I probably wouldn't." He would not be able to bring himself to talk about why Bella used him as a punching bag, why his dumbass brother refused to give up on him, and most of all why everyone thought him dead. "It hurts too much."

With a frustrated sigh, Jack corrected, "That's not what I meant, Lee. You don't have to say anything you don't want to. Just saying you were in the war and don't want to talk about it is enough." Grimacing, he decided, "I'm not going to tell the others about this."

"You want to, though," Regulus observed, finally able to feel detached. "I don't blame you. You can if you want. I shouldn't have lied."

Jack stared at him in incomprehension. He pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, "Lee, calm down, would you? I'm not planning on narc'ing on you, and if you're not ready to tell everyone else, I understand." Grimacing, he mentioned, "Besides, we both know you've more or less been coping with all this shit until now. Not well, granted, but you are coping. Yes, we were all going to hold an intervention sooner or later if you kept it up, but you yourself admitted you're freaking out about your roommate."

"What's there to talk about, Jack? She's been engaged, and she deserves someone better than me," Regulus replied, feeling defeated and pissed at himself for starting to tear up again. There was no reason he should cry over this, especially not in public. "It's not like I ever had a chance in the first place. I mean, for fuck's sake, she's gorgeous! She's gentle and kind, and I'm a fucking nervous wreck."

"Some chicks like that," Jack mentioned pointedly.

Regulus chose to ignore the comment and declared, "The fact of the matter is that I was delusional to ever even think she'd be interested. Hell, the only time she's ever shown any interest is when she fucking jumped me the night she found out she's being married off."

"Wait a hot minute, Lee," Jack interrupted, sounding like he was stuck on some detail. "Did you just say she slept with you?"

"No. She just came on to me," Regulus clarified, wondering why Jack thought that could be relevant at all. Vesta had been upset, end of story. "She didn't want to be alone, and I happened to be there. It would have been taking advantage." Granted, Regulus had just generally been uncomfortable with the situation, but Jack didn't need to know the details.

"Jesus Christ, Lee, you are too dumb to live," Jack muttered to himself, shaking his head. Having overcome his disbelief at Regulus's apparent stupidity, he explained at a normal volume, "To recap: your roommate, who I am given to believe is a normal human woman, tried to bang you after finding out she has to marry someone she doesn't know, and you think she was trying to convince you to fuck her senseless because she was upset."

"I don't understand what you find so mystifying about this," Regulus said, confused and a little embarrassed at the fact he seemed to be missing something important.

Jack sighed before he inquired straight, "When was the last time you got laid?"

His face likely flushing scarlet, Regulus started at the question and stammered, "It's not important." He realized what question Jack was going to follow with and added defensively, "The last time I had sex has nothing to do with anything. Vesta was just upset."

Shaking his head, Jack grinned and acquiesced, "She probably was upset, dude, and I guess I shouldn't be surprised you took it the way you did." He looked like he wanted to say more, but Jack chose instead to laugh and mention, "Hey, there's this party later tonight a friend of mine organized at one of the frats, and yes, I know, frat party. However, I only have to show my face before disappearing, but you could come with if you want, take your mind off all this. It'll be a proper—"

"American college experience?" Regulus guessed with a tired smile. He really did appreciate the thought. "If you need someone to save you from the boredom, just tell me, Jack. I'm always up for free booze."

Sounding a little embarrassed, Jack insisted, "It's not one of the society things, I promise! Well, my shithead cousin might be showing up, but that's because of mutual friends and him being a bit of a creep regarding drunk freshman." To be fair, Jack had admitted earlier he had been using the 'American college experience' excuse to try and have Regulus help alleviate how dull some of the things his mother insisted on dragging him to were. Placatingly, Jack reiterated, "Seriously, though, Lee, why don't you go to the party? Worst comes to worst, there is the free booze, although somehow I don't think Everclear mixers are to your taste."

Anna had stumbled over to the bar where the two of them were talking and demanded, "Are you trying to rope him into going to the whatsits?" Of Regulus, she continued, "You need to stop wearing formal-like things if you're lookin' to score. I mean, yes, rrowr, but—" Regulus tried to duck away from her as she moved to mess with his hair, but he lost that battle. "Hmm, yes, good. Now, find some decent clothes, and you might pass for a punk rocker."

Wincing, Regulus demurred, "I don't think that's a good idea." He hoped that running his fingers through his hair made him look slightly less disheveled. Given that a bizarre conspiracy theory that his brother and his former bandmate were one and the same was currently making its rounds, Regulus figured that last thing he should do was add fuel to the fire.

"God forgive me for saying this, but Anna may just be right," Satine mentioned, having walked over to retrieve their friend. "If you put on some worn jeans and one of your scuzzy t-shirts along with that leather jacket of yours, maybe stop pretending your ear isn't pierced…" She broke off for a moment before realizing, "You know, you look a helluva lot like S—"

"He's a fair bit taller than me and doesn't look like he has a smack habit," Regulus snapped, instantly regretting taking that tone with his friends. Looking down at the ground, he apologized, "Sorry, Satine, I—I'm not in the best of moods right now."

With a sigh, Satine waved off the apology. "You're never in the best of moods," she teased, "but we put up with you anyway. That said, generally, Anna's point stands, as does my advice. However, I assume Jack here has convinced you to join him at the frat party, so maybe don't go for the punk look. The girls there would probably treat you like kryptonite."

Regulus decided that maybe he would have to listen to Anna, then. Better to be seen as an outcast and get shitfaced for free in peace rather than have to deal with being propositioned and finding a way to say no. "So if I want to just get drunk in peace, I should change into something people like Jack's cousin would disapprove of?" Regulus asked.

"Think of the most pompous prick imaginable and do the opposite," Anna confirmed, nodding drunkenly. "Unless it turns out to be a _fun_ party, in which case you're gonna get laid, what with your accent and the whole bad-boy aesthetic you seem to excel at."

Regulus must have pulled a face, because Jack said laughingly, "Jesus, Lee, there's no need to look offended. You're very good at pretending to be boring." While Jack had said the latter comment in the same tone of voice, the look he sent at Regulus made him fairly certain his friend was genuinely trying to reassure him given their conversation before Anna intervened.

"Your headphones are very leaky," Anna agreed knowingly. "Detracts from the boring."

Deciding that attempting to decrypt Anna's vaguely coherent nonsense was futile, Regulus sighed and yielded, "I'll go home and change." Then again, he did have the leather jacket with him, and his jeans were not exactly the most formal. He could make it look like they were a bit more worn, but a glamour was fairly obvious once it was noticed.

Satine pinched the bridge of her nose and commented, "If you're really that intent on blending into the background, might I suggest splitting the difference? Unbutton your shirt a bit, wear the jacket, let Anna muss up your hair again, and you'll look stuck halfway between a punk and a yuppie. Thus, unattractive to both. An added benefit is that you don't have to head back to your apartment to change clothes. However, let it be known that I still think you should relax a little and actually wear something other than long-sleeved button-downs."

"As you implied, Satine, if I did that, I might get mistaken for the lead singer of the Hobgoblins, and honestly, I'd prefer if that did not happen ever again," he replied, starting to wonder if he was being overly paranoid. Then again, a t-shirt would let a bit too much show. Bellatrix's attempt to flay the Dark Mark off his arm hadn't been entirely successful, not to mention the fact that the scar on his neck, while usually hidden by a collar, still looked fairly gruesome, to say the least.

"It's happened before?!" Anna exclaimed, suddenly all ears again.

Startled, Regulus admitted, "Well, yeah, once or twice. I mean, the error made sense in context, but, again, I don't exactly look much like him." A couple of fans mistakenly accosting him in a dimly lit hallway really hadn't been that strange, even if he was several inches shorter and had been holding a damn guitar at the time.

Satisfied with the answer, Anna decided to hang over Satine instead of making a concentrated effort to ooze onto the bar. Satine, for her part, seemed more or less to not care and mentioned, "Mind you, this doesn't mean that you're getting out of spilling whatever drama you've managed to embroil yourself in with your roommate. You've been touchier about the non-relationship since we all returned from the break."

"There's nothing to tell, Satine," Regulus said, hoping she would listen. Alas, she glanced over at Jack, who simply shrugged, before raising an eyebrow pointedly. Regulus tried not to grimace before amending haltingly, "I—she's been engaged. It—it's really not important."

Sighing, Satine put her hand on his shoulder and said sympathetically, "I'm really sorry to hear that, Lee. I know you have been carrying a bit of a torch for her."

"I'll get over it," he murmured, knowing he sounded the farthest thing from convincing.

Satine did not look like she believed him, but she let the topic drop. Anna thankfully did not seem to have registered what had just been said, so Regulus did not have to dodge another of her drunken attempts at empathy. Jack talked to Satine for a couple minutes about some more-or-less minor issue he had been having in one of his classes, which she had taken the previous year. Regulus only paid half as much attention as he should, instead choosing to attempt to close the drunken gap between himself and Anna as much as possible. She looked about three-quarters of the way to ralphing, which meant he was not going to pursue that goal too ardently. He also had no need to copy his brother in this of all things.

Once Jack had paid his tab, he and Regulus left the bar. Regulus felt overly cold on the walk over to the party, although this time it really was his fault that he was freezing, given he had chosen to wear a leather jacket instead of the coat Vesta had thrown at him that morning. When they were a couple blocks away, Jack mentioned, "You know you don't actually have to come, right? You look tired, you know, and I don't want you doing this because you think you need to out of some sense of duty or something."

Unlike Regulus, Jack had dressed sensibly, even wearing a knit hat and gloves. Wait, he _had_ stuffed the gloves into the jacket this morning! There was no point in trying to fix that at this juncture, though, Regulus reflected. Remembering that Jack was waiting for an answer, he replied, "No, it's fine. I, well, I should get out more. I mean, hanging out with everyone at the bar is all well and good, but Vesta's right that I'm a bit of a shut-in." Jack looked like he was about to object, so Regulus quickly changed the subject, "How's your dad doing, by the way?"

Jack's expression went from annoyed to blank with that. He paused, grimacing. However, he did answer, "He's okay. The doctor thinks his heart'll go back to normal once the infection's cleared up. I'm sorta worried that he and Mom aren't telling me everything. I mean, I know they probably are, but I just…"

"I understand," Regulus murmured. His parents usually never let on about any ill health until one of them was yelling at the other about being careless at St. Mungo's. Well, save his mother's standard problems…

"Do you know how your parents are doing?" Jack asked suddenly.

Yes. Yes, he did. After all, when someone in his family decided to self-destruct, they managed to at least monopolize one page of the Daily Prophet. Regulus looked down at the pavement as they walked and answered, "I heard Mum's on the warpath about my brother—she's pissed about how he's being treated, for once—and Dad's… I don't even know. Either he really is in hospital for a heart attack or Mum erased his memory and shipped him off to Bermuda or something so he didn't actually have one. Both are equally likely at this point. Grandmother—my mum's mum—undoubtedly suggested the latter." Regulus laughed bitterly, startling Jack, and added, "So, basically, at the end of the day, things are as normal as ever. Dad's off somewhere unreachable, Mum's acting crazy, and I have no idea what's going on. Only difference is they think I met a bad end and my brother is in prison instead of Mum just warning the two of us that's what would happen if we continued as we were."

"She figured he'd be the one that ended up in prison?" Jack inquired, a little surprised.

"Yeah. I may have been the one that fell in with a bunch of assholes, but my brother's always aspired to be a living country record, consciously or not," Regulus replied, kicking at some snow as they waited at a crosswalk for the light to turn red. "Turns out 'Folsom Prison Blues' is more accurate than I thought, even though I always expected he'd 'turn twenty-one in prison doing life without parole'. He missed _that_ by six months." Jack was staring at him again with that uncomprehending look, and Regulus explained, "My uncle Al had broad music tastes."

Jack nodded slowly, still thinking what Regulus had said strange. Feeling badly for whining so much about things that didn't matter, Regulus said, "I don't have to talk about this ever again if you'd rather I didn't. As I said, this mess is only slightly more fucked up than normal, and Vesta's more used to how batshit insane my family drama is. I mean, she still looks at me sideways when I talk about some of this shit, but I—Look, what I'm trying to say is you really don't need to ask about all that if you really'd rather not know."

"No, it's not that, Lee," Jack corrected, waving him off, still looking disturbed. "I guess I'm just confused that your parents, well… Usually you're generally positive about them, and I guess you never really talk about your brother, to be honest."

"He has a tendency to rush into things without thinking," Regulus murmured. "Hence, prison, even if he's stupidly straight-laced about most laws. He and his friends are—were animagi, and he modified a motorbike to fly—both were done illegally, mind you—but God forbid he catches me doing anything that doesn't fit into his ideas of right and wrong." Regulus grimaced before admitting, "That's a lie. He never turned me in, not when he found out about the Mark, not even when we ended up dueling each other while… You know, he'd have freaked out if he found me smoking, but he just fucking sighed and told me to go home the night Caradoc Dearborn was killed. Who the fuck does that?"

"It sounds like he cares a hell of a lot about you," Jack said carefully.

"The Ministry thought he killed me, you know," Regulus mentioned, trying to remember if Vesta had thrown out his pack of cigarettes. He could have sworn he left them in this jacket. Jack probably wouldn't approve of him stopping at a corner store to pick up a pack. Neither of them were anywhere near Sirius's level of paranoia about it (the time Sirius railed at him about 'death sticks' like they were in some fear-mongering public service film was still hilarious in retrospect), but better safe than sorry. Regulus could just bum a fag off someone at the party, in any case. "Never made a lick of sense to me."

"Is that…"

"No. It's not helping with the current case, though," Regulus murmured. 'Case'. Ha! (Kanan had actually started over-under odds on Sirius getting a trial. Satine had already lost her bet. She'd thought he'd be arraigned by now. Kanan had said six months to trial. Regulus had said what he knew to be the truth, which had caused mass confusion among the group given his opinion on Sirius's innocence, but he knew Barty's father. Sirius was never going to get a trial.)

"Damn," Jack said, at a loss for words. They were a block or two away from the party at this point. "You think there's any hope he'll be aquitted?"

"If the proper political pressure is applied, he'll get a fair trial, but I doubt it," Regulus admitted, running his fingers through his hair. "I know the director of the DMLE's going to make sure he goes down for it."

"So, basically, your family's imploding, and the chick you're in love with is marrying someone else," Jack summarized. "It's no wonder you want to get shitfaced. Well, for the moment, I'm all in favor of enabling your drinking."

Regulus flashed him a small smile as they walked up to the house. Jack had neglected to properly explain what exactly he had meant by 'frat party'. Regulus had an idea of what it would be like given Kanan and Ben's endless complaining, but he hadn't really expected the crush of people and the preponderance of those red plastic cups. As Jack talked to his friend who had invited him, Regulus excused himself to get something to drink. It took far longer than he would have liked to get to the table with the alcohol, and he settled for a glass of whatever was in the keg. He wasn't about to ask anyone.

He knew he probably should not have knocked back the beer, but he still felt too damn antsy with the current situation, and the temperature inside the house was too high. After taking the time to unbutton the top of his shirt, he grabbed a second beer before retreating to where he thought there might be fewer people. At that point, he realized he had completely lost Jack. The alcohol was furthermore starting to hit him like a speeding train, and Regulus leaned against the wall to try and regain his equilibrium.

About halfway through that second beer, Regulus noticed a group of (what he assumed were) sorority girls that kept glancing in his direction. He tried to ignore them and stared steadfastly at the opposite wall, but when he went for another beer, he noticed they were watching him again. His chest started to feel tight, so he decided he needed to just go into the kitchen, even if the room was more crowded. He could get outside more easily from there.

The people he was standing near were discussing current affairs, and Regulus considered that despite the fact he was pretty close to three sheets to the wind, he still found the conversation to be the most boring, pompous bullshit posturing he had heard in ages. He couldn't say it was the most boring ever, since he had listened to Lucius for extended periods of time for many years, but this was close. Regulus realized he had apparently laughed out loud at something they had said in earnest, because about three of them were glaring daggers at him. He quickly apologized and retreated back into the other room. He considered the beer and wondered if he should cut himself off. However, he was thirsty, and he did not feel like vomiting yet, so there was no reason to stop drinking.

Still, he was aware he wasn't too steady on his feet at the moment and set the beer down so he didn't spill it all over his jacket. Closing his eyes so the room didn't spin, he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. Okay, he should cut himself off. He needed to find Jack. He opened his eyes to find one of the girls from earlier in front of him. Shit, it was way too hot in here, and he was far too drunk for this. "Can I help you?" he asked in a tone of voice he hoped would help her take the question as it was intended. Regulus sincerely doubted sarcasm would translate over the music and the dull roar of other conversations.

"Why don't we get outta here?" she shouted over the din. He had a feeling she was drunk, too, because he felt it was very obvious he had no interest in talking to anyone.

Apparently, however, he was going to have to make this clear. Annoyed that he had to shout to have a conversation he had no interest in actually participating in, he replied, "No, thanks," and made to get away.

Somehow he had missed that she had more or less cornered him, because he ran into her arm against the wall. He was too busy being stunned at that development that he almost missed her pinning him to the wall and saying, "Are you sure? I can show you a good time…"

Regulus opened his mouth to tell her to fuck off and instead found himself being kissed. Pinned against a wall. (It was hot as hell in here, not like the endless chill of the cells, but he wasn't bleeding. That was a plus. He wasn't tied up or cuffed to the wall.) As the girl's hands started to wander, his body finally caught up with his brain, and he pushed her off him. (The girl was on the short side, blonde, and honestly pretty cute. Maybe in a different life he wouldn't have minded, but he still stuck noting that she wasn't tall, or dark haired, or about to hurt him.) Panicking a little, he stumbled back away from her and bolted for the door.

The backyard was cold, but the heat from the house party kept the exterior wall a bit warmer than he expected. A couple of Grateful Dead enthusiasts were passing a joint around and talking about the stars, which Regulus honestly couldn't make out because of the light pollution. He considered asking if he could have a hit, but he didn't want to attempt to make sense of their current conversation (it would be rude if he just wandered off, wouldn't it?). Thankfully, another person who looked as out of place at the party as he and the Deadheads came outside to smoke a cigarette. "D'you have a spare fag?" Regulus asked, well aware how stupid he sounded. God, he was never drinking this much again.

The woman stared at him blankly for a moment before handing him a cigarette without comment. He thanked her, and he absentmindedly snapped to light the cigarette. The woman shook her head and mentioned, "You might want to be a bit more careful. They might be high as kites over there, but this party does have no-maj at it."

Regulus froze. Well, he stood mostly still, but his hand was shaking. Goddamn nerves. He took a drag before answering, "Right. Thanks. I—I wasn't thinking."

"It's no problem, and most of the people here are so loaded they'd have written it off. You're welcome for the cigarette, by the way. You look like you needed one," she commented, flicking some ash away. For some reason, the woman reminded him of Sirius.

"Bad day," Regulus explained, not really wanting to say more.

"And one of the usual suspects from Alpha Phi ambushed you," she commented wryly. Regulus made a noncommittal sound just before the woman spotted someone coming out and groaned, "Ugh. This douchebag. Jesus Christ on a stick. I gotta run. It was nice talking to you."

Regulus nodded in acknowledgement, glad to see he had stopped shaking so badly. The woman left as he heard Jack yelling at someone. Jack wouldn't be the aforementioned douchebag, so Regulus figured it was whomever he was fighting with. Still, he did not feel up to helping break up a fight, so Regulus kept to the shadows for the moment. He would apologize to Jack later. Really, he would.

"…such a massive prick! Your dad just got you an arranged marriage, and now what, you've decided to sleep through the entire eastern seaboard?" Jack demanded, sounding fairly angry. "I swear to Christ, Waltham!"

Regulus assumed that the asshole in question was Jack's cousin. He had mentioned that they might run into the man, hadn't he? "It's an _arranged marriage_ , John, don't be such a stick in the mud," Jack's cousin drawled. The man had a very punchable face, and Regulus was fairly certain that the expressions on the stoners' faces was due to the very presence of Jack's cousin harshing their mellow. He was reminded forcibly of a more annoying version of Lucius.

"What about your fiancée? If she was sleeping around, you'd be up in a fucking fury!" Jack snapped. "What makes you think that you can do the same? And don't call me John!"

"You only said hello to me to act morally superior, _John_ , but it's just so rich when you slum around with those friends of yours," the man with the very punchable face sneered. Regulus wished Sirius were there. Sirius would have acted on the thought, and Regulus would have pretended to be outraged, but they would have both known he only wished he had the nerve to do that himself. "Mother was saying you've managed to pick up another one."

Regulus assumed this was referring to himself. Jack glared and surprisingly defended him, "Hey, leave my friends alone. Leander's a good guy, even if he's crazier than a bag of cats." Regulus was touched that his friend felt that way and even started to feel a little guilty that he was hiding in the shadows.

"If you're referring to the Englishman, I heard he wears long sleeves in high summer, if you get my meaning," Jack's cousin implied. Regulus snapped a little at that and wondered if his Mark really was as destroyed as Vesta said it was. He rolled up his sleeve and stared at his forearm for a long, hard moment. No, he couldn't do it. He couldn't lie for shit, and if he was caught in the lie, Jack would be the one that got the wrong end of the stick.

However, Jack just rolled his eyes at the statement and managed to notice Regulus leaning against the side of the house, smoking. Jack's cousin did not notice Jack's very brief freak out and smugly powered on, "Didn't you know? They say Voldemort brands his followers on the left arm. Why don't you check the next time you see him?"

Jack stared at his cousin and said evenly, "I could go find him, if you'd like, but somehow I think he'd deck you for saying it." Regulus shrugged and went back to concentrating on absolutely nothing. Honestly, Regulus probably would have just stared at Jack's cousin for a moment and then walked away. Anyone who had to ask didn't deserve to know, but at this point, Regulus just did not have the energy to tell some asshole to fuck off.

Alas, his conscience got the better of him, and Regulus spoke up, "You can check my arm if you'd like. It's scarred all to hell, so good luck with that, but I really don't give a shit."

Jack winced as his cousin spun around to face Regulus, who realized he really should try to rein in his temper. Jack's cousin gave Regulus a once over and was thoroughly unimpressed with what he saw. "I'm not sure what I expected, Jack," he commented, sounding like he was going to treat Regulus as a lower life-form. "Maybe someone more put together. Instead all I see is some a strung-out punk, which again I suppose I should expect from your friends."

Still, how shitty must he look if this yahoo was saying he looked high? Regulus tried to catch his reflection in the window and cringed. Yeah, he looked fairly rough at the moment. The booze combined with his brief … whatever that had been … was not doing him any favors. That said, his hands were no longer trembling, which was one bright spot in all this.

Shit, he was going to need another cigarette soon.

Jack and his cousin were yelling at each other again, and Regulus considered running out to buy a pack of cigarettes. The night was turning out to seem like he would need it. Then again, Vesta really would kill him if she found out he'd started smoking again. In the end, he just sighed as the flame finally reached the filter.

Jack stormed off, back into the party, for one reason or another. Regulus considered following, but he couldn't bring himself to go once more into the breech. Moving also wasn't too conductive to keeping the contents of his stomach where they should be. No, he should try to go after Jack. Regulus tossed the cigarette butt onto the concrete and ground it out with his heel.

"I cannot believe this is the class of individual my cousin is friends with these days," Jack's cousin said, startling Regulus. Apparently he was not the only one not to have followed Jack. "What's your poison? Smack? Speed? Then again, you were pretty damn jumpy around that girl. Women not to your taste?"

Regulus really wished he had something in his hands, be it another cigarette or beer, something to keep him from making a fist and lessen the urge to punch this bastard. Sarcastically, he replied, "A) Alcohol, obviously, and B) what, I must be gay because I wasn't interested in anonymous sex? Really open-minded of you, there." Ignoring his ass would likely be the best route to keeping a fight from breaking out. God, knowing Sirius wasn't there to do stupid shit was making Regulus all that much more reckless.

Jack's cousin grabbed him by the collar and growled, "Stay the fuck away from Jack, you here me?" Okay, Regulus understood this sort of response. This, he could work with.

"He's my friend, nothing more," he said calmly, trying to stop being so angry himself. "I'm not looking to leech off him, either. You have my word."

"I don't believe you," Jack's cousin said, tightening his grip on Regulus's shirt.

Regulus was starting to understand why Barty had been slightly terrified of Sirius. "Let go of me," he requested, adding some steel to his voice in the hope he was not going to have to fight this guy. Regulus had always been useless in a bar fight. "I'm not going to ask twice."

"Or you'll do what?" Jack's cousin asked, calling Regulus's bluff. "You're not stupid enough to use magic in public, are you?"

Honestly, the thought had not occurred to him. Wait, this guy thought he was a Death Eater, right? Well, shit. "I am _not_ one of Voldemort's cronies," he ground out. Tense was important. It was not a lie. "I don't like hurting people."

"Tattoos can be removed. Dark magic marks you forever," Jack's cousin said stonily, finally releasing Regulus, who stumbled backward and fell on his ass.

Saying to hell with it, Regulus took off his jacket and rolled his left sleeve up to the elbow. "Look, jackass, and tell me again I serve that fucking bastard!" he shouted, apparently loud enough that the potheads were temporarily brought back to earth. "He tore my family apart and ruined my goddamn life! I hope he burns in hell!"

"So you were desperate enough to flay the skin off your own arm. That just proves you were desperate enough to escape prosecution," Jack's cousin rationalized. "I bet there's a cell in Azkaban for you right between Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange."

Regulus may have punched him in the face. (He hoped he'd broken the bastard's nose.) Regulus may have also broken his hand because he forgot how to punch properly.

"You fucking bastard!" Jack's cousin more or less screeched at him. Oh, hey, his nose was bleeding. Regulus 1, Jack's cousin 0. "You limey piece of shit! You broke my nose!" Regulus highly doubted it, given that his hand had come away the loser in the exchange. He should probably get some ice for that. Shit, it looked like they had attracted an audience of more than just the Deadheads. Wasn't that the guy Jack had been talking to when they got here? Regulus was pretty certain that the guy that just ran back inside was Jack's friend. Well—

The punch that should not have come out of nowhere connected square on his cheekbone and managed to even knock him over. Okay, Regulus probably should have realized Jack's cousin would be punched in return, especially since Regulus was distracted as all get out and fairly inebriated. Of course, given that his face now hurt like a motherfucker, Regulus realized that, no, he had not broken his hand. He had also landed wrong on his other arm, which was somewhat painful itself. Belatedly, he swore a blue streak.

The woman who had loaned him a cigarette was standing nearby, looking fairly impressed with either his command of the English language or the sheer stupidity he was currently exhibiting. Regulus tried to push himself up from the ground when Jack's cousin kicked him in the chest, thus ending the stream of invective. The woman started in surprise and shouted, "Christ, Waltham, that wasn't necessary! The kid was already down!"

Regulus flinched when Jack's cousin made to hit him again. Why did he ever think he could win fights? Most of the time when he started fights, he was drunk, that was true. However, he always ended up on the ground or the floor or somewhere, either broken or bleeding or both.

All of a sudden, Jack was helping him up. "Come on, Lee," he murmured. "Iseult's distracting Waltham with another screaming match. Let's go."

"I'm sorry I fucked up your night," Regulus apologized, hoping Jack hadn't noticed he couldn't stop shaking. "I shouldn't've punched him."

Jack grimaced as he led Regulus away from the others and reassured him, "Don't worry about it. Waltham deserves having some sense smacked into him. Besides, if anyone ruined anything, he did. Iseult's his ex. She's over at BU for grad work, but her younger brother's here for undergrad. They got into it, as they always do when they're within a five mile radius of each other, which led to me trying to break it up for some unfathomable reason, but because Waltham's such an asshole, we got into an argument and took it outside, and you know the rest."

"Huh," Regulus replied, feeling lightheaded. Oh, God, was he going to vomit? He didn't think he was that drunk anymore. No, this was the other kind of lightheaded that came with that nausea and his chest hurting. "Jack, I really don't feel so good."

"You don't look so good, either, Lee. I mean, outside of the shiner," Jack mentioned, looking concerned. With a frown, he asked, "Do you think you're up to apparate?"

"Not really," Regulus admitted, wondering if his chest really should hurt as much as it did. He'd have noticed if he cracked a rib, right? Well, he would definitely probably notice if he really had broken something. The whole lightheadedness was persisting, and Regulus realized airily, "Hey, Jack, I think I'm going to fain—"

* * *

Regulus woke up on his bed in their dorm room with an icepack on his face. He groaned in pain as he sat up. Goddamn, he was going to have a hell of a bruise on his chest tomorrow. He glanced over and saw Jack had looked up from whatever he had been reading. "I apparated us back about half an hour ago," he explained. Gesturing to the bedside table, he added, "There's a glass of water if you need it."

"I'm sorry," Regulus apologized again. "I lost my temper, and I shouldn't have."

Jack put his book down and said hesitantly, "My cousin is an asshole, and he says horrible shit sometimes. He called while you were out." He paused before admitting, "Sorta scared me, you being unconscious for that long. I thought I was going to have to call 911."

"I've never passed out from alcohol before. Usually I just end up barfing for a couple hours," Regulus commented, realizing he had a hell of a headache. He drank the glass of water next to him and asked, "You used the sobering charm?"

"Feel hungover already?" Jack asked in return, raising an eyebrow.

Wincing, Regulus used his uninjured hand to cover his eyes and said, "Yeah. The charm sometimes hits me worse than waiting it out, although I do appreciate the thought." He waited a moment before asking, "How bad does my face look?" Regulus fought the impulse to add anything else, lest he sound unbearably vain.

"The swelling isn't too bad, but you're going to have to find a way to explain the black eye to convince your roommate to heal it," Jack said with a trace of amusement. However, he sounded fairly solemn when he continued, "Lee, I know this might not be the time, but maybe you _should_ cut back a little on the booze. Just a little, you know? Normally you don't really drink more than the rest of us, and I feel two-faced even saying all this. I mean, I encouraged you earlier, but I don't think getting _that_ wasted on a regular basis is the best coping mechanism."

"I know," Regulus replied, thinking how it was still better than the alternative. Embarrassed to admit this, he explained, "I didn't mean to drink so much. I—God, this sounds stupid—I don't do so well when there are that many people in a small space. I don't know why, but I really have trouble dealing with it. I know I drank far too much. Shit, I more or less cut myself off right before I hid in the back yard with the Deadheads. At least, I think."

Jack tried not to grin at something, because this was a very serious conversation. He decided, "Okay, I guess I don't have to worry, then. If you don't mind, I'll not drag you to any house parties like that in the future, because angry-you is sorta scary in a oh-God-please-don't-bait-the-asshole way."

"My brother would have started a brawl," Regulus attempted to defend himself.

Jack stared at him uncomprehendingly and reminded him, " _You_ started a brawl."

"Only a small one," he corrected in a huff. There was a large difference between Sirius's amazing ability to start a bar fight with little provocation, and Regulus's anger issues translating into impulse control problems when he was drunk. "And, forgive me for saying this, your cousin fucking deserved it."

"I have no doubt of that," Jack allowed. He smiled ruefully and mentioned, "You know, I should have gone with my gut and dragged Ben or Kanan with me. I _knew_ you and Waltham in a room together would cause a shitstorm."

"I'll just have to avoid him in the future, then," Regulus reassured his friend.

"Well, that's a good idea. Once he decides he doesn't like someone, he never stops acting like a giant prick around them," Jack said, annoyed at the behavior. "He doesn't even like Ben, for God's sake. Ben!" After a moment, he finally asked, "What did he say that set _you_ off?"

Regulus stared down at his hands. "Nothing I didn't deserve," he murmured. More honestly, he tried to remember, "Well, I think he said something vaguely homophobic, accused me of being an addict, and didn't believe me when I showed him I didn't have a Dark Mark, which led to him talking shit about that, which led to me punching him in the face."

Jack took that as his cue to finally ask, "How is that possible? I mean, I'm still trying to process exactly how _you_ of all people ended up in a group of Neo-Nazi fuckheads, but I thought that Voldemort did some crazy shit to make the tattoo stick."

"Let's just say your cousin was a bit more on the mark than I'd prefer," Regulus replied, before deciding he needed to answer the implied question as well. He owed it to Jack, who had simply accepted his confession and not judged him for it. Bracing himself, Regulus explained, "Bellatrix removed the Mark, because according to her, I was no longer worthy. She had been so fucking furious… I'd embarrassed her to the Dark Lord, you know? She was the one who had recruited me." He decided not to explain anything more, because the longer he talked, the more likely it was that he would let something slip. Instead, he finally mustered the courage to say, "Jack, listen, if you need a couple days to process everything I've dumped on you, I understand. You don't need to spare my feelings about this. Yes, I quit. Yes, I never really believed in Voldemort's mission, but the fact remains that I _did_ join of my own free will. I may have never killed anyone, but I stood by and did nothing while others did. I hate myself for that, so you don't need to pretend you aren't disturbed by it, either."

"Lee, all you did was punch my douchebag cousin in the face after he said the same kind of shit he says on a daily basis," Jack stated, sounding tired. "You like to pretend you don't, but you have a hell of a temper. You freak out every time Bellatrix Lestrange comes up in conversation and usually have to leave the room. Don't think we haven't noticed that. Yeah, I am a little freaked out that you freely admitted to me that you were a Death Eater, but you clearly regret your decision. What's more, you quit and, well, kinda obviously paid the price for it. I guess I'm saying that I will need some time to adjust, but you gotta keep in mind that we wouldn't be friends in the first place if I thought you were an asshole."

Regulus let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and murmured, "Thank you, Jack. I'm not sure I deserve it, but thank you."

They were silent for a moment before Jack asked, "Wanna go to IHOP? I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving, and obviously pancakes and bacon will probably make you feel better, hangover-wise."

Despite himself, Regulus smiled and agreed, "Yeah, that'd be nice."

* * *

 ** _Coming Up: Coincidences._**

 _24 January 2016_


	7. Chapter 7

Regulus watched Vesta pace around the apartment from where he was sitting, slumped over on the couch. She had been in a state of near panic for the past hour or so, and he had been trying more or less unsuccessfully to talk her down. Granted, he did have to admit part of his problem with that had to do with the fact he really hoped the date crashed and burned. On the other hand, Vesta also wanted the date to crash and burn, but she had started to worry that she would actually like the guy and had oscillated between the two extremes ever since.

"He may not be in favor of the engagement, either," Regulus suggested now that she was again nervous about things going too well. Recalling what Andromeda has said to Narcissa many years before, he continued, "I mean, most reasonable people would allow for the engagement to be dissolved if both parties are completely against it."

Vesta sent him an unamused look. "The key word there is 'reasonable', Regulus," she commented bitterly. She ceased her pacing and collapsed onto the couch next to him. After a moment, she murmured, "It's good of you to try to cheer me up, but you really don't have to."

"You're my friend," he replied blankly, feeling a little strange she was considering this an imposition on him. "Of course I should. I'd be a really shitty friend if I didn't," he added for emphasis, leaving off how he had promised himself he'd never be that crappy a friend again. Honestly, he should have knocked Barty over the head with an iron kitchen implement and mailed him gift-wrapped to his parents with a note to keep him under house arrest until the war was over _ages_ before he had actually suggested that maybe Barty shouldn't be taking on so many missions with Bellatrix.

Of all things, what Regulus had said then seemed to cheer Vesta up more than the (unfortunately empty) platitudes and advice he had been reduced to parroting for the past fifteen minutes. Smiling conspiratorially, she decided, "Well, I'm glad you're not a shitty friend. Did I mention? Mary helped me pick out this outfit, which more than fulfilled her duty, friend-wise."

"It's … loud?" Regulus hazarded, uncertain of the goal of her current state of dress.

"It's hideous," Vesta corrected. "She was almost physically pained in picking it out, but it could have been worse."

"Legwarmers?" Regulus suggested. "Neon ones?"

Vesta smiled at his attempt at humor. For the first time in a couple days, she seemed actually happy. He was glad to see her happy. The whole situation with the engagement and Vesta's impending date had been weighing on her, and Regulus wasn't sure how to make her feel better other than simply continuing to be supportive, no matter how much it hurt him.

They were prevented from talking further when there was a knock on the door. Both Vesta and Regulus tensed, but she thankfully took no note of his reaction and instead steeled herself to answer the door. When she opened it and greeted her fiancé, Regulus found himself frozen. In retrospect, he should have put this together. He really should have. The information had all been there. His obliviousness combined with an unwillingness to connect the dots had simply conspired to keep him in the dark. He fixed a smile on his face as Vesta introduced him as her roommate to Jack's cousin. Intent on pretending he had never met the man before, Regulus managed to say everything he needed to be polite while screaming internally.

Regulus actually thought he was going to get away with it before the other man mentioned in a manner that meant he knew exactly what was going on, "I say, have we met before?" Regulus had the urge to punch the man in the face again, but he refrained this time.

"I can't say I recall," he replied, the admittedly fake smile still plastered on his face. He might have looked a little crazy, but he felt a little crazy. Also, never before had Regulus been glad of the fact he had almost been black-out drunk. He was going to deny everything forever.

Vesta was staring at him in confusion, but she thankfully decided not to ask now. Regulus supposed that she realized he would explain his honestly bizarre behavior later, even if she also seemed more than slightly concerned regarding his reaction. She instead took advantage of the ensuing lull in conversation to steer the other man out of the apartment, taking a brief moment before she shut the door to say goodbye.

For a whole minute after the latch had clicked, Regulus remained in the exact position he had been in before he collapsed onto the ground, wondering what in the hell had just happened. He was abstractly aware he had started to hyperventilate, but his head felt like it was spinning, and he just couldn't make sense of what was going on. Vesta was engaged to that… that utter _bastard_? How—how could that happen? How could—God, and what right did Regulus have to—No, just because he had feelings for her didn't negate the fact that Jack's cousin was an asshole.

Jack. Jack could help fix this.

Regulus grabbed his coat and his keys before apparating to the dorm. He took the stairs up to the room two at a time and ran down the hall. The only other person in the hallway rolled his eyes, unsurprised Regulus was sprinting somewhere again. Regulus knocked on the door first, forgetting for a moment that he had keys, before he fumbled for the right one. However, Jack opened the door just as Regulus dropped the keychain like a damned idiot. Jack raised an eyebrow and asked, understandably confused, "Lee? What's going on?"

Regulus opened his mouth to say something but was unable to form any words. He grimaced and after a moment managed to pull himself together. "Re-remember how I mentioned that Vesta got engaged?" he began. Oh, God, he shouldn't have done this. He was putting Jack in a bad position. Angry at himself, he murmured, "Never mind. It's stupid."

"Lee, you look like shit. What the fuck happened?" Jack asked, looking seriously concerned. He was so concerned, in fact, that he dragged Regulus into the room, pausing only to pick up the dropped keys, and sat down on the bed opposite from Regulus's. "What happened?"

There had to be a way to explain this tactfully. He would have to start from the beginning and gradually build up— "She's engaged to your cousin," Regulus blurted, the connection between his brain and mouth apparently short-circuited. He couldn't meet Jack's eyes as he repeated forlornly, "She's engaged to your cousin."

"Aw, fuck," Jack swore, sounding not altogether that surprised. He shook his head and said, "I should have seen that coming. God dammit." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided, "This calls for all of the alcohol. Fuck, Lee, does anything ever go right for you?"

Regulus felt like a fucking idiot, because that set him off on a crying jag. Of all the damn things, _that_ question had to be the thing that made him start sobbing like a fucking child. A hell of a lot of things did go right for him. Hell, he was alive! It's just that none of the things he really wanted to go right did, and the mess with Vesta was just the newest thing to go wrong in a series of unfortunate events.

Jack seemed uncertain as to what he should do. He began, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

"It's not your fault. I shouldn't have dragged you into it," Regulus interjected, calmed down enough that he could function a little. He wiped at his eyes and admitted, "I know I'm overreacting, and I know I shouldn't have dragged you into this. It's not fair. He's your cousin, and I'm just your friend, and a shitty one at that. You shouldn't have to—"

"Waltham's a great big bag of dicks," Jack declared, as if what he said was as much a natural law as gravity. He grimaced and explained, "It doesn't matter that—Really? I mean, Vesta Dinoso's your roommate? Yeah, Vesta isn't exactly a common name, but—How in the hell did that happen?" At Regulus's shrug, Jack shook his head and continued, "Right. Anyway, I thought it was clear from the party the other night that I do not like Waltham and think he's the scum of the earth. Yeah, I'm related to him, but that doesn't mean I would side with him over this. Like, I literally caught him with his pants down that night. And you're not a shitty friend. Stop saying that sort of crap about yourself."

Regulus could barely focus on what Jack was saying. His hands were shaking again. Oh, God, he was a horrible person. What was he even doing? Vesta was engaged, and yes, her fiancé was a bit of a jackass, but what right did Regulus have to interfere? After all, he didn't exactly have the purest motives for wanting to break up the engagement.

"Lee, you gotta calm down," Jack said, his hand on Regulus's shoulder. Regulus looked up to see his friend watching him, looking worried as hell. "We'll sort things out, okay? I mean, we can't make all this go away, obviously, but things'll be all right, okay? Try to calm down?"

Regulus nodded jerkily and murmured, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Jack let him cry a bit more before deciding, "We're going out. As I said, this calls for booze and lots of it." When Regulus didn't move, Jack hauled him to his feet and continued, "I know I said you should cut back on drinking, but I think given the circumstances, I think those words were slightly premature."

"Drinking won't solve any of my problems," Regulus said listlessly as he followed Jack out of their dorm room. Hell, knowing his luck, drinking would only compound them. "Besides, she'll probably hate him, and I'll have had a nervous breakdown for nothing."

Jack scoffed and corrected, "Knowing Waltham, the only way she'll be getting out of this is either due to elopement or a literal duel for her hand."

"Medieval," Regulus commented absently. If Narcissa had heard that, she would have endeavored to set the man in question on fire with only her mind. Regulus had no doubt she would have succeeded as well. What Jack said finally sunk in, and Regulus repeated with mounting anger, "What? He'd actually refuse to back out of the engagement? Who the fuck does he think he is? That's—that's—I can't even believe that—The _fuck?!_ "

Jack put his hands in his coat pockets as they continued to walk in the general direction of one of the nearby bars. "Yeah. You starting to understand why it was so damned difficult to get him into an arranged marriage to begin with?" he asked, sounding disgusted. "You know, even if you were so inclined, I doubt he'd even accept the challenge for a duel from you."

Regulus could see that far more easily, but if the major players had been switched for what had happened with Ted and Andromeda, Ted wouldn't have been brushed off. Granted, no one in the family had particularly liked Andromeda's fiancé aside from her mother, so that wasn't exactly a great comparison, but even if it were more understandable, it was still bad form. More importantly, it sounded like Vesta was going to have a hard time getting out of the engagement, assuming she wanted to. "She might not want to break the engagement," he murmured, trying and failing to keep his expression neutral.

Jack stopped where he was and leveled a Look at his friend. "Lee, I know this sounds crazy, but trust me. Give it a week or two, and she will want to kill him," he insisted. "Like, I get that you feel conflicted because you've got some sort of feelings for her, but as I have been repeating over and over, Waltham is a human cockroach. In fact, that's an insult to cockroaches."

"She deserves better than me," Regulus murmured as they resumed their walk.

"Then she sure as shit deserves better than my douchebag cousin," Jack replied with finality. They had finally arrived at the bar. "Now, again, we are going to get completely wasted and figure out the nitty gritty of Operation Cockblock, because I refuse to be the last one of my cousins unmarried while Captain Asshat isn't. It's a perversion of the natural order of things, and honest to God, it boggles the mind that you haven't run away with Vesta yet. _Boggles the mind_."

"She's not interested," Regulus protested. That was the problem, though, wasn't it? All of this would be different if there was something going on between him and Vesta, but there wasn't.

"She has _repeatedly_ tried to initiate sex with you," Jack pointed out, dumbfounded. He was wrong about how Vesta felt, admittedly, but it was nice to know that Jack had decided to be firmly in Regulus's corner. "For the love of God!" Jack paused to order a couple drinks from the bartender and shooed Regulus over to a table.

"It was only _once_ , and she was emotionally compromised!" Regulus continued to protest once Jack came over with the beers. He grimaced and added, "Besides, I am not looking to just—Do you really think there's no possible way to convince your cousin to leave her alone if she doesn't want to go through with things? How did things get this way in the first place? I mean, this doesn't make any sense! None of this makes any sense!"

Jack stared at him for a moment before pushing one of the beers at him and commanding, "Drink until it does. Also, I ordered nachos and onion rings, because I'm fucking starving." He waited for Regulus to actually take a drink before sighing and trying to explain what was going on. With a wince, Jack started, "So, you may have noticed Waltham has the personality of a shitweasel when he doesn't like someone. He's admittedly not too bad if he likes you, but because he has the tendency to be a jackass to people he doesn't know, he has issues romance-wise. Now, Iseult stuck with him for years, mysteriously, but as far as I can tell, she recently got tired of some of his shit, and their relationship broke apart. My aunt and uncle, however, started panicking, because they have enough sense to realize Waltham might die alone."

Regulus nodded in understanding. His grandfather on his father's side apparently felt much the same way regarding Uncle Alphard until Uncle Alphard ran off to see the world with Raoul. Grandmother, of course, considered that even more evidence that Regulus's father's side of the family had serious issues if they couldn't even tell Uncle Alphard was what she called a "confirmed bachelor". To keep from mentally replaying one of Grandmother's rants, Regulus prompted, "To prevent that, they decided to arrange a marriage? Why Vesta, though?"

Jack rolled his eyes and handwaved, "Political bullshit." A waiter delivered the food, and Jack attacked the nachos before continuing, "Her mom's family is old money. Apparently they left Britain ages ago 'cause one of the old families over there pissed them right the fuck off. In any case, they usually have a scion or two in the government doing government things. Like, I think one of them is a spook, like military intelligence or CIA? And then there's Theseus White, who's just … I don't even know how to explain that guy. Like, he knows everyone, and somehow he can just make things happen. I don't understand it. Also, he's a senator."

"But Vesta said he was the fun uncle," Regulus recalled, feeling completely confused as he munched on an onion ring. "I mean, that's what it sounded like, at least."

Jack cracked up and agreed, "Yeah, he's a bit of a cad, according to the tabloids, but people like him, and he keeps getting voted into the Shadow Senate. He and Mom get along pretty well, but my uncle Barry is obsessed with making more of an official alliance. The same goes for Hera Vector regarding Senator White. _She_ is a scary motherfucker, let me tell you."

The woman in question was also at one point going to be Sirius's mother-in-law, but Regulus kept that to himself. The fact remained, however, that Regulus well understood that Sia's mum was a force of nature. He paused for a moment and then tried to understand the rest, "So, this is really more of a thing that your uncle and Vesta's aunt cooked up? But if I'm hearing this right, the actual people involved in the government don't think it's necessary?" Christ, Regulus was starting to think Jack was right, and he was still too sober for this conversation. With a quick glance to the beer he was drinking, he decided that was likely true.

Jack made a frustrated noise and replied, "I don't even know. All I know is that I'm now going to actively fuck with Waltham's love life instead of sitting on the sidelines and occasionally pointing and laughing." He sighed and admitted, "Granted, I guess we could do an end-run to get the engagement broken, but Mom could be very disappointed if I tried. Besides, my uncle is at least partially acting out of 'oh God is anyone willing to fuck my son' fear and I don't know what's going on in Mrs. Vector's brain."

Regulus shrugged, continuing to pretend he didn't know exactly why Mrs. Vector had decided to drag Vesta along into this mess and how his involvement in the matter would backfire spectacularly. He felt a moment of terror when he realized that he could not remember if he had mentioned that Sia, as in his brother's fiancée, was Vesta's cousin. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck—As nonchalantly as he could, Regulus agreed, "Who knows? I certainly don't."

Thankfully, Jack only sent him a weird look before deciding that Regulus was acting bizarrely for the usual reasons. He had finished off the nachos and his beer, so he excused himself for a moment to order the next round. Regulus stared down at the table, wondering what in the world he could reasonably do. He had reassured Vesta that she could probably get out of the engagement, but apparently that was yet another thing Regulus Black knew literally jack shit about. Hell, maybe it would turn out that Jack was just exaggerating how much of a dick his cousin was, and Regulus had just caught him on an off day, and Vesta would actually like the man. That would be one of the better outcomes, right? If Vesta was happy, then there would be no reason for Regulus to worry. Yes, he would still feel like he had his heart ripped out for a while, but he would get over it, like he always did. Therefore, the best course of action was still to just let things happen and make due with whatever happened to be reality.

Jack set the new beer directly in Regulus's line of sight and slapped him on the back before reassuring him, "Lee, we'll figure this shit out, one way or another. Promise."

* * *

Regulus decided that he had maybe a bit too much to drink as he stumbled back to his apartment. He was going to have to thank Jack for going out to the bar with him. They might not have any sort of coherent plan (all potential for that had gone a bit sideways after Regulus started in on his third beer), and most of what they had said had devolved into calling Jack's cousin as many synonyms for an unpleasant person as possible, but Regulus really did feel a bit better. Hell, he had even convinced Jack that he would cover the bar tab for once. Little victories.

Regulus leaned against the door to the flat as he fished around in his coat pocket for his keys. Finding them, he was a little annoyed at himself for lacking the coordination to find the specific key he wanted immediately, but he wasn't too concerned. He just wanted to get into the apartment and then into bed and sleep. Hopefully the world wouldn't be spinning by the time he collapsed. The last time he had been this drunk, barring the time he passed out, the world just wouldn't stop spinning while he was trying to go to sleep. That had led to clinging to the toilet for a couple hours and hoping to God that he hadn't woken Vesta. He hadn't, but she hadn't been too pleased to find out he had ended up sleeping on the bathroom floor the next morning. Regulus wasn't surprised at all to think that his friends wanted him to stop drinking so much. Fuck, if Barty could see him now, he'd be reading Regulus the riot act. As if Regulus was the only person with self-destructive behavior. That said, Barty's self-destructive behavior hadn't landed multiple _other_ people in Azkaban. Nope. Just him. Regulus grimaced. This was not the time to think about all that. He could spend another night this week drinking to forget how much of a shit for brains Barty's father was and how much of a crap friend Regulus himself was. Right now was reserved for drinking because the girl he loved was going to marry another man.

Once Regulus opened the door, he had to concentrate in order to stop himself from slamming the door again immediately. Vesta was nowhere to be seen, thank the Lord, because God knew she would be able to tell immediately he was completely soused. Alas, the prick she was engaged to was standing in the middle of the room. Deciding the best course of action was just to pretend there was literally nothing wrong, Regulus walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He hung up his coat and admitted to himself he did probably have to say hello to the bastard. Putting on as neutral an expression as he could without feeling it was overly fake, he asked, "Did you and Vesta have a nice night?"

"Are you going to continue to pretend we haven't met?"

Regulus tensed and turned around. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, judging he was at least able to fake affably clueless at this point. "As I said earlier, I really don't remember making the pleasure of your acquaintance before now."

"Jack never thought to fill you in on how you got a black eye, then?" Waltham asked with a raised eyebrow. He looked about as thoroughly unimpressed with Regulus as he had at the party, right before Regulus punched him in the face. Good times. That was turning out to be a memory to treasure. In the present, Regulus reflected that Jack's cousin really did give off a general aura of assholishness that couldn't really be denied. However, he was trying to at least be vaguely civil for the time being, despite Jack's insistence regarding the insufferability.

Regulus shrugged and admitted, "I get pretty clumsy when I'm, uh, really drunk. Hell, I can be pretty clumsy when I'm sober. Once, I even tripped down a flight of stairs, 'cause I was distracted looking at a very pretty older student." Named Vesta, but Jack's cousin did not need to know that detail. "Honestly, I didn't really think that much about it," he added, hoping what he had said first covered the fact he was now lying through his teeth. "The black eye, I mean."

Strangely enough to Regulus, Waltham then flat-out stated, "I punched you in the face."

Regulus considered asking, "The fuck did I do?" but at this point, that might backfire. Maybe it would be better to slowly 'recall' the short physical altercation. "Huh," Regulus said instead, well aware he was starting to sound about as drunk as he actually was. With a wince, he decided to admit, "Well, Jack might've said I started a bit of a fight, but I didn't think I'd done enough to really piss anyone off past the fight itself. I mean, my brother, _he_ starts barfights and comes out of it with friends for life, but… Shit, I'm sorry if I hit you or insulted your mother. I probably didn't mean it." Regulus paused, wondering if it would be too much to suggest one of the reasons he would have decked the man was the real one, before deciding why the hell not. "I mean, it's not like you accused me of being one of You-Know-Who's—" Regulus made a vague gesture instead of trying to remember the word he was looking for. He was a bit disgusted with himself for not naming Voldemort flat-out, but most magical British folk said the stupid name. Regulus reflected, "Actually, I probably would have punched first if you insulted my brother."

"You were high as a kite and miraculously even more drunk than you are now," Waltham said, disgusted. Well, this man was not going to be winning a congeniality award anytime soon.

Something in him broke, and Regulus snapped, "I haven't done—It's a Saturday night! I have a fucking right to drink if I want." Angry, he decided to hell with it and continued, "And, yeah, I do actually remember punching you in the fucking face now, but to be fair, who the fuck accuses any given British national they meet of being a fucking Death Eater, much less flaying the Dark Mark off their own arm? I mean, shit, do you have any idea how painful that sort of injury is? It makes me sick just thinking about it." Regulus felt himself shudder before immediately starting to think about something completely different that did not recall Bellatrix Lestrange torturing him for a week and then slitting his throat. Oh, God, it had hurt so badly when she'd started actually flaying the skin from his forearm. Bunnies. Yes, bunnies were nice. Happy little bunnies. Regulus took a deep breath and added placatingly, "Look, I freely admit I fucked up, okay? I'm sorry. Can we not try to get along for Vesta's sake, at the very least?"

"I really don't like you, but I suppose a truce is acceptable whenever my fiancée is around," Waltham conceded, still looking at Regulus as if he were the scum of the earth. "I do not approve of your behavior in the slightest. You're a drunk, and I can't see why Jack continues to associate with people like you. Truly, though, what other reason could you have for the fact that neither Jack nor any of his less savory friends have ever seen you without long-sleeves?"

"I was in a car accident," Regulus repeated the lie. He had to admit that Vesta's panic-induced explanation was honestly one of the better ones. He couldn't, for instance, have said he crossed Bellatrix or any of the others as a civilian. That would be too easy to look up. "My scars are horrible, and most people find them difficult to look at. My arm was mangled going through glass." He was going to have to write that down before he forgot it to keep the story straight.

Waltham looked him over and apparently did not like whatever it was he saw. He sneered, "You're a lying bastard."

Regulus honestly had no response to that. What could he say? That he wasn't? The man was right, after all. Regulus had been lying for most of their conversation. He would normally agree that the only thing he deserved was this sort of scorn, but he just could not listen to this, not from Jack's cousin. He sighed and said, "I don't have the energy to do this right now."

Regulus turned to go to his room, but Waltham stopped him by grabbing his shoulder. Tensing, Regulus glared at the other man and growled, "Let go of me now." He held Waltham's returning glare for a moment before trying to shrug off his hand.

"I wasn't finished talking to you," the older man said steely, tightening his grip on Regulus's shoulder. "You're a bad influence on my cousin, and I still want you to stay the fuck away from him. I'd say the same about Vesta, but that ship has sailed, not that I ever needed to worry about you anyway. I need to know you understand what I'm telling you."

Regulus stood silently, regarding Waltham. The man was trying to threaten him. He grit his teeth and decided that he might as well reply. Otherwise, God only knew when the bastard would let him go the fuck to sleep. Unable to suppress his temper completely, Regulus replied, "I understand you completely. Now stop fucking manhandling me."

Waltham snorted but complied, looking aggravatingly superior all the while. Regulus would love to wipe the self-satisfied smirk off the bastard's face, but he had to keep trying to remember he was making the attempt to be nice, more or less. "I'm glad we could agree on at least that," he mentioned. "Now get out of my sight."

"Fuck you, too," Regulus muttered, suppressing a yawn, as he escaped into his own room. He realized then that he had no idea where in the name of God Vesta had gone. He was pretty certain that he and the insufferable jackass had been alone in the apartment, so where had Vesta been? Hell, she probably just stepped out for something at a corner store or had gone to help a friend home. Why Waltham was waiting after her wasn't really Regulus's problem. Yes, he was concerned, but he also trusted Vesta to be able to take care of herself. She was actually really good at that, unlike Regulus, as evidenced by his continuous fuck-ups and drinking. Probably half the reason Mr. Vector hadn't simply shipped Regulus off somewhere on his own was Regulus's inability to take care of himself. With the mess he was at the moment, he couldn't really blame Mr. Vector.

Before walking over to his bed, he made the conscious decision to lock the door to his room behind him. Regulus just wasn't too keen on possibly having yet another tense and stupid conversation with Jack's cousin. Yawning again, Regulus took his clothes off and slipped into bed. He was so damn tired. He would have to apologize to Vesta in the morning for missing her.

For once, Regulus managed to sleep like the dead and awoke to the sound of someone hammering on the door to his bedroom. The noise alone was enough to make him want to smother himself with a pillow to escape the pounding in his head. He called out that he would be there in a second, but even he felt the words had come out as mostly unintelligible. However, it got the noise to stop. He almost started to fall asleep again before realizing he should probably make an effort to get out of bed. Upon reflection, actually rolling out of bed had been more trouble than it was worth. Knowing his luck, he probably bruised his knees at the very least. Regulus ran a hand through his hair and opened the door to his room.

Vesta sighed and asked, "Did you literally just roll out of bed?" She sounded a little exasperated, but her eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Mistakes were made," Regulus acknowledged, covering his eyes with his hand to shield them from the light. Yeah, he definitely had a hangover. Recalling normal human behavior, he remembered to ask, "Did you have a nice time last night?"

Giggling at his misfortune, she replied, "Yes, I did, although it sounds like you might've had a better one." Regulus chanced the blinding headache to find her grinning at him, and she added, "Go put some clothes on. We're going to get brunch. Otherwise you'll be lying in bed in the dark all day, and I'm certain no one wants that."

"Standing up is uncomfortable," Regulus whined. He knew she was right regarding the food from the diner she frequented. It did usually make the hangovers less bad, but he would have to take a shower and dress, and all of that was more trouble than it was worth.

Vesta raised an eyebrow and demanded false-archly, "Do I need to march your butt into the shower myself? Don't think I won't do it." He only stared at her blankly for a moment before she coaxed, "Come on. I know you have a weird fascination with buttermilk pancakes. I'll pay?"

"All right," Regulus said, giving in. Vesta looked so happy with his response that Regulus had a hard time looking her in the face. "I'll be ready in twenty minutes."

For once, his estimation of time actually managed to be fairly accurate, even if he did almost fall asleep in the shower. It was still freezing outside, so he fished out one of his less worn pairs of jeans and put on a sweater. Regulus retrieved his wallet from the jeans he had worn the night before and walked into the main room of the flat. Vesta was sitting on the couch, reading a novel as she waited. Regulus noticed briefly she had a rather low-cut top on for the weather, but she seemed to be far more impervious to the cold than he was. Besides, she rarely got to wear her nicer clothes because of her job at the hospital. Also, he really shouldn't be looking. _Really_ shouldn't be looking.

Hoping she passed the blush he knew was on his face as just the result of the shower, Regulus apologized, "Sorry I took so long." He distracted himself by grabbing his coat and putting it on. God, he was so fucking awkward. Shit, she had probably noticed him staring at her breasts, too. Regulus decided that the carpet had suddenly become infinitely interesting.

However, Vesta smiled at him as she put the book down on the coffee table and said, "It's fine. I was just reading, anyway." She raised an eyebrow at him and asked, "Are you seriously going outside with wet hair? No, don't answer that; of course you are." She shook her head and walked over to put on her own jacket. Vesta was in amazingly good spirits, and Regulus honestly did not really want to think about why.

A short while later, they were waiting on their food at the diner. Regulus had to admit Vesta had been right about him being an idiot regarding his hair, which had gotten a bit frozen while they were outside, but she had just teased him about it instead of her usual concerned segue into how he needed to stop trying to give himself pneumonia. At the moment, Vesta was staring out the window with the same smile on her face that she'd had all morning. It had started snowing while they were walking over, and Regulus had to admit it was fairly pretty outside.

He felt a twinge of guilt and finally asked seriously, "How was last night? Really?"

The smile melted off Vesta's face. Well, Regulus reflected that the thought was not entirely accurate. She now just looked more sad than happy. Vesta continued to look out the window as she began, "It was okay. He was all right, but I don't want to marry him. There was just _something_ that sort of rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, if the thing has to go through, I suppose I could adapt, but I really don't want to marry him, not off my first impression."

Regulus grimaced, staring down at the table. Well, he just ruined yet another thing. He murmured, "I'm sorry it turned out like that." Regulus hesitated before mentioning, "I, uh, well. It turns out I actually do know him, sort of." Vesta looked at him in confusion, and he explained contritely, "You know my friend Jack? Um, he's your fiancé's cousin, and I may have … gotten in a bit of a physical altercation with him the other day."

Vesta stared at him for a brief moment before laughing uncontrollably. On the bright side, she seemed to be smiling again. "God damn, of course you'd get in a fight with him," she laughed. "Please tell me you managed to get a good hit in."

A little stunned by her reaction, Regulus admitted, "I might have broken his nose? But he then decked me, and Jack had to drag me away before I got myself seriously injured."

Vesta was still amused as hell by the absurdity of it all and commented, "And I have no idea why I thought you _wouldn't_ have made friends with Jack Kennedy. Fuck's sake, you just accidentally make friends with everyone. Why wouldn't you end up hanging out with him?"

"I don't think I ever asked his last name," Regulus confessed, feeling like an ass. "I mean, we're technically sharing a dorm room. What sort of idiot—"

"Ah! Stop! No self-deprecation allowed this morning," she interrupted, poking him in the chest. Grinning, she mentioned, "I guess then you'll be happy to hear the neon monstrosity of an outfit Mary picked out for me did its duty. I enjoyed watching Waltham try so hard the entire evening to complement it. Fuck…" She shook her head ruefully but added in a more serious tone, "I don't think I did enough to scare him off, though. Oh, well. I'll just have to take Sia up on her offer to annoy the shit out of him to the point he says something objectionable enough that we can break everything off. However, if we do decide to do that, you need to stay the hell away for the duration, because I know you'll not react well to him talking shit about your brother."

"It's why I punched him in the first place," Regulus acknowledged. Realizing how badly that could be without context, he added, "He just said some bullshit about Sirius deserving to be stuck in prison with Bella, and I snapped. Goes to show I should really stop drinking."

Vesta accepted the explanation as-was, but she seemed strangely hesitant before asking, "Have you talked to Jack about this? Was that where you were last night?"

Regulus colored at that. There was no way she knew what they had talked about the night before (he vaguely remembered the conversation devolving into Jack swearing about his cousin while he had started drunkenly rhapsodizing about Vesta). However, Regulus knew what she was actually asking and replied, "He's not that sanguine about your chances in kicking Waltham to the curb."

"Meaning?"

Really not wanting to be the bearer of this particular bit of bad news, he murmured, "Jack thinks the only way to get out of it is to elope."

Vesta looked shocked as she stared at him and said, "Really?"

Oh, God. What the hell had he just said? How did combinations of words like that come out of his mouth on a regular basis? Regulus backpedalled immediately, stammering, "I mean, you'd have to find someone to run away with. Not—He also mentioned the stupid dueling thing, which—medieval. So, you might need to sic Sia on your fiancé."

"Oh," Vesta replied, crestfallen. Regulus wished he knew what to say to make her feel better. She sighed before smiling wryly and saying, "Well, I guess whatever happens, happens. I can deal with it as things come along. Thank you, though, for talking to Jack."

Regulus smiled weakly in return. He didn't deserve her thanks. He had just run off to his friend because he was hurting. It hadn't even occurred to him that he could have asked about the engagement for her. Feeling like the scum of the earth, he murmured, "You're welcome."

* * *

 _Coming Up: Poor decisions._

 _5 July 2016_


End file.
